


Her

by Sage8771



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fights, Friendship/Love, Gen, Love, Redemption, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 48,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sage8771/pseuds/Sage8771
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will she be the one to end Negan's reign?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at Walking Dead fiction. I do not own any of these characters.

Melinda sat in the gazebo, looking around intently. She watched the men, women, and children walking around, some doing work, some just ambling. It still seemed foreign to her, seeing so many people. They weren't dirty, they weren't starving. They were living.  
When Aaron found her a few days ago, she was holed up in a house a few hours away. She had been on her own for about 6 months. She didn't want to think about what happened to her last group. They were good people, who didn't deserve the fate that was given to them. She shook her head to clear those thoughts from her mind.  
_You can't go bac_ k, she thought. _You can only go forward._  
She was pulled from her memories as she watched a man approach her. He was attractive, with curly brown hair and intense blue eyes. He had a salt-and-pepper beard, and a lean physique. He approached her with a purposeful stride, and she figured he was the leader of this place.  
As she stood, he looked her over. Melinda was about 5 foot 9, with long legs, a generous shape, with curvy hips and breasts that were not too big and not too small. She had chestnut brown hair, that appeared reddish in the late afternoon sun. A smattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and she had bright green eyes, which were watching him warily.  
"I'm Rick," he said.  
"Melinda."  
"I'd like you to come with me," he said, turning quickly, heading to the house across the courtyard.  
She sighed and followed him, anticipating what was about to happen. Aaron and warned her that Rick would want to speak with her, asking her questions to determine if she would be a good fit with their group. It seemed that time was now.


	2. Chapter 2

Melinda followed Rick up the steps. He knocked on the door and a young man who appeared to be in his twenties answered. He smiled slightly at Rick.

"Hey, Spencer," Rick smiled. "Is it ok if we tape this conversation?"

"Sure," Spencer answered. "You know where everything is."

Rick clapped him on the back as he walked through the door. Spencer stepped aside to let Melinda pass, and gave her a quick smile. Melinda looked at him warily, but didn't say anything.

She followed Rick down the hall, taking in her surroundings. It still didn't seem real to her. Everything was clean, bright and orderly.

"It takes some getting used to," Rick said with a smirk. "We all felt the same way when we got here."

Melinda nodded. Her heart had started to thump, thinking about what she was going to be asked. He led her into the living area, filled with big picture windows. The floor was hardwood, gleaming and dark. There were two overstuffed sofas, and two wingback chairs, both of which were dark grey. Rick motioned for her to sit in a chair, while he went into the cabinet. Taking out a video camera, he set it up next to the sofa that was facing opposite her.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions. Do you mind being taped?"

Melinda shook her head. Aaron had told her ahead of time that this would happen. "Whenever you're ready," she replied.

Rick pressed the button and sat down. "So, first things first," he said. "Where are you from?"

Melinda looked past his shoulder, into the kitchen. She focused on the window above the sink. "I was born in Ohio, and lived and worked in Pittsburgh."

Rick nodded his head. "We seem to have a few people from Ohio. Spencer and his family were from there and there was a doctor here at one time that was also from Ohio."  
He continued, "What did you do for a living?"

"I worked for the city of Pittsburgh, in the Human Resource department. I was there for about 7 years and I really liked it."

"Are you married? Children?"

Melinda shook her head. "No children. Divorced. Actually, we divorced since I couldn't have children."

Rick looked abashed. "I'm sorry."

Melinda smiled sadly. "Don't be. It just didn't work out. He was a good man, and I don't blame him. He just wanted what I couldn't give him."

Rick shifted in his seat and continued. He asked her about her family, where she went when the world went to shit.

"How have you survived so long?" he wondered.

Melinda took a deep breath. "My husband was a hunter. A bit of a survivalist, if you will. He had served in the Army. He always figured something would go down, just not people rising from the dead." She gave a rueful laugh. "He insisted I learn how to shoot a gun and use other weapons. He wanted me to be able to handle myself. I guess it's a good thing he taught me before the world ended. I tried to find him as things were falling apart, but when I went to his house, he wasn't there. I decided to head south because I thought Washington would have a plan, but it seems not."

Rick looked at her for a moment. "I think we all thought that as well. Now, how have you ended up by yourself?"

"Well, in the chaos, I couldn't find anyone I knew, things were just too crazy. I knew I had to get out of the city. With my parents gone for a while, I had no one else to think about. I just got in the car and started driving. When I got into West Virgina, I came upon a group that was willing to take me in. We were together for a while, just surviving, when we came on a large group of walkers. I'd rather not go into details," Melinda whispered. "I managed to get off the road. I had to climb up in a tree. I was there for a few days before the group cleared out."

Rick stood up and walked to the window. He looked out for a moment before turning back to her. "I take it that has happened to you more than once? Find a group, stay for a while, then back on your own?"

Melinda looked at the ground, collecting her thoughts. "It's what always happens, isn't it? You find people, care about them, and then they die. But you just keep going. It never ends."

Rick said nothing. She could see his jaw clenching. Yes, he knew that was what always happens.

"I just have a few more questions for you." He came and sat in front of her on the coffee table. He looked her in the eye, not breaking contact. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"More than I can count," she answered.

"How many people have you killed?"

"Four," she said quietly, almost too soft for him to hear.

"Why?"

She took a shaky breath before answering. Placing her hands on the arms of the chair, she squeezed and released before answering. "One I killed because she had been bitten, and she asked me to. The other three I killed because they tried to rape me."  
He looked at her for a long moment and nodded.

"Ok." He stood up. "I'll take you back to Aaron."


	3. Chapter 3

Melinda followed Rick out of the house and down the steps. He turned and headed for Aaron's house, and she stayed a step behind him. He walked quickly, and she found herself wondering what he thought of her, her answers. Were they normal? Did the fall into an acceptable range?  
When they reached the two story house that Aaron and Eric lived in, Rick motioned to her to have a seat on the porch. She walked over to the bench and sat down heavily. She felt so tired all of a sudden. Rick knocked on the door and waited for an answer. Melinda stared out at the street, feeling like she was frozen.  
Aaron opened the door, and Rick walked in. She could hear murmurs just inside the house, but couldn't make out what they were saying. After a moment, both men stepped back out onto the porch, Aaron with a smile on his face.

Rick cleared his throat. "You will be staying with Aaron while you make this transition. He's going to take you to the pantry to see Olivia. She will get you set up with rations and some personal effects. Normally,we-"

Gunshots rang out, along with a scream. Like a shot, Rick took off towards the gate, followed by Aaron. Melinda stood up and followed, unsure about what was happening. Her heart started pounding, as she jogged behind them. What the hell was going on?  
"Sasha!" Rick yelled. Miranda looked up at the woman guarding the gate. She was clearly agitated. "They're here!" she called down.

Outside, a booming voice shouted out, "Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in, or I'll huff and I'll puff, and I'll blow your fucking house down!" Laughs and guffaws followed.  
Rick nodded his head once, and a portly man with a mullet slowly opened the gate to Alexandria. Two large SUVs and a dual cab truck slowly drove through.  
Most of the women and a few men retreated to the safety of their homes. The rest settled themselves in a semi-circle around the gate. Melinda stood just behind Aaron and Eric, while Rick took his place next to a boy of about 15 and a beautiful black woman with long locs. She had a look of intense hatred on her face as she murmured to a man with shaggy hair and leather vest. His arms flexed with muscle as he sneered at the man getting out of the first SUV.

He was tall, with slicked back dark hair and dangerous good looks. He had a smirk on his face, a leather jacket, and a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it. Melinda had never seen anything like it in her life. The men that poured out of the cars seemed to fall in line behind the man like some sort of perverted ballet.  
"Rick!" the man called out, almost like they were old friends. "Great to fuckin' see ya."

Rick looked at him with barely concealed disgust. "We thought you were coming in two days, Negan."  
Negan let out a big booming laugh. "That was more of an estimate. No, I thought I'd ride in early to surprise you." He looked around at the houses with a glint in his eye. "This is quite a place ya got here. Very nice. Why, I could see myself right at home here."

The man in the leather vest looked like a coiled snake about to strike.  
Negan placed the bat on his shoulder and whistled. "So, where's my shit? I believe we agreed on half of everything you got."  
Rick looked but said nothing. "Come on, asshole, I ain't got all day. I got other settlements to get to today. You know what they say, 'When the cat's away, the mice will play.' Well, I gotta make sure my other mice aren't fucking playing around." Negan cocked his head and smiled.

Rick looked at the man in the vest. "Daryl, take 'em to the armory."  
Negan nodded his head and called to the men behind him. "Let's go boys! We got shit to take!"  
Daryl started walking back to the armory. Five or six men followed behind him.  
Melinda continued to watch Negan. He exuded power, and everyone there could feel it. Negan walked up to Rick, leaned in and said, "Don't worry, pal, it always hurts the first time."

The woman next to Rick huffed, which caught Negan'a attention. "Well, hey there beautiful! I remember you from the last time. You clean up fucking nice! What's your name?"  
The woman stared through him. Negan had a dangerous glitter in his eyes. "I'm trying to be sociable here, doll. Don't make me start to be unsociable." As he said it, the bat dropped from his shoulder. He began to turn it in slow circles, and a few people visibly flinched. Melinda didn't want to know why.  
"Michonne," the woman finally answered. She spit it out as if the name had nails on it. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Negan put his right hand on her shoulder, and the boy next to her reacted. Negan noticed and a big grin lit up his face.  
"Hey, SC! How are ya? You don't mind if I call you SC do ya? You're the future little serial killer in this particular little group, right?" The boy said nothing, but Melinda saw Rick's face get red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped.

Over the next several minutes, the men went from house to house, taking whatever they wanted. The trucks and SUVs were loaded, as the men organized and wrote down everything they took. As they were finishing up, Negan turned and addressed the residents. "Listen up, assholes! This is the drill. Once a month, we will be coming in here and taking half of your shit. If you don't have enough, you better beg, borrow and steal to get it. If you do not come up with enough fucking shit for me to take, I am going to bash in the brains of one of you assholes. If it happens a second time, I will kill two of you motherfuckers. If it happens a third time," he chuckled, "well, you don't want to fucking know what happens then."

He stalked past Rick with little more than a "ta ta, asshole."  
Melinda watched as they turned around to drive out of the gate. As they passed, Negan looked out the window at her and gave her a wink.  
After the gate closed, she turned to Aaron. "Is there something you neglected to mention? What the hell did I just sign on for?"


	4. Chapter 4

She could smell rancid breath on her face. Hear the laughter abover her as she struggled. Rough hands were digging into her arms, others trying to pull down her pants. She had to reach her knife, tucked into her back. Another hand snaked up to cover her mouth and nose. She fought, trying to butt her head into the man on top of her, but she was rapidly losing strength. Her vision began to blur, her eyes watering. She was terrified, feeling like a caged animal. I can't die like this, she thought. Spots began to cloud her vision. Sounds started to fade as she screamed in her own head, into the abyss...  
Melinda woke with a choked sob. Light was gently streaming in through the blinds. She fell back onto her pillow with a thump. Wiping her forehead she tried to take slow, steadying breaths.

In the two months since she had been brought to Alexandria, she still woke at least twice a week to her recurring nightmare. She tried to tell herself that she was ok, that she survived. But every time the dream came, she was helpless.  
"Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty," a voice called from downstairs.  
"Coming!" She shouted back.

Melinda slowly sat up and swung her legs over the bed, curling her toes in the soft carpet. She shook her head, and stood. Grabbing her clothes and toiletries, she headed to the bathroom across the hall.

Flipping on the light, she stood in front of the mirror, analyzing her face. She looked tired, she decided. Turning on the faucet, she quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth. After brushing her wild hair, she quickly put it up in a ponytail and dressed in cargo pants and a red tank top. She fastened her gun and her knives to her homemade belt.  
She stomped down the steps and passed into the kitchen. "Morning, princess," Aaron smiled.  
She grunted and walked over to the coffee. Pouring herself a small cup, she added powdered milk and sugar and grabbed a granola bar. She loudly pulled out a chair at the table and flopped down, ignoring Aaron's grimace. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Still having the dreams?" he inquired. She nodded but didn't say anything. He sighed and patted her hand. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you and so is Eric."  
"I know. I appreciate it. I'm just not ready to talk yet." she answered. Looking at her watch, she jumped up. "I gotta go. Daryl's gonna be pissed if I'm late again." She kissed Aaron's cheek as she walked by. "I'll see you in a day or so."

 Aaron called out after her, "Stay safe, princess." She huffed at his nickname for her as she stopped to put her boots on at the door.  
Once she got outside, she stood at the street and closed her eyes, just enjoying the warm sunshine on her face for a moment. She opened them back up when she heard footsteps approaching. Tara came up along her right side with a small smile. "Hey," she said.  
Melinda gave her a warm smile and a hug. She had grown fond of Tara over the last several weeks. The young woman was still mourning the death of her girlfriend, Denise, and the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was just wondering if you could keep an eye out for a couple of things on your run."

"Absolutely. What do you have in mind?"

Tara fished a small piece of paper out of her pants pocket. "Eugene has a couple of requests for the factory and I am seriously running out of pants. This bullet making crap is putting a serious dent in my wardrobe. Don't go out of your way, but if you see anything in my size, I would be willing to be your personal servant."  
Melinda laughed. "Duly noted. I will do my very best. Did you write down your sizes?"

"All on the paper," Tara murmured. After a couple more minutes of talking, they gave their usual fist bumps and Melinda headed towards the front gate. Daryl was leaning on the truck at the front, smoking a cigarette. He smirked at her when he saw her approaching. "You ready, Dixon?" she called.  
"Seein' as I was here first, I would think so," he answered back, rolling his eyes. He took a long drag, as she ambled up to the car. "What took ya so long?" he inquired stubbing the tip under his boot. She shrugged. "Didn't get much sleep." He nodded but didn't say anything as she walked around to the passenger side.  
She climbed in and buckled her seat belt. The truck shifted slightly as Daryl pulled himself into the drivers seat. She could hear him huff as she clicked the seat belt but she didn't care. It was a habit, and he always ribbed her about it. Thirty some odd years of car safety wasn't going away, even if that was probably the only way she wouldn't die in this world anymore.

 

"Tara and Eugene have a list for this trip," she said as she handed him the piece of paper. Daryl quickly scanned it and snorted. "Chicks always want clothes, even when the world's gone to hell," he grumbled. She flicked his arm and shot back,"Not all of us want to wear the same outfit day in and day out. Why don't you put that shirt and pair of pants out of its misery? If not for yourself, at least for the rest of us who have to smell you." Melinda ducked her head and laughed as he tried to grab her ponytail. She enjoyed teasing him, and surprisingly, was one of the few that could, even though they hadn't known each other long.  
Of all the people she had gone on runs with, she was by far the most comfortable with Daryl. While some thought of him as gruff and ill-tempered, she often felt him to be quiet and introspective. He didn't talk if something didn't need said, and she felt a certain peace in his demeanor. He could be both rough and gentle, and she knew that he had led a hard life before the walkers came. She wondered what would have happened if they had met before. Would they have had anything in common?  
He snapped his fingers in front of her face, bringing her out of her thoughts. She nodded her head that she was ready, and Heath slowly opened the gate to let them through. "Let's go scavenging!" she said in a singsong voice, and Daryl let out a most put-upon sigh. "Gonna be a long day," he grumbled and she laughed. She liked irritating him.  
They headed off to parts unknown.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I hope you guys are enjoying this. I know it's a slow burn, but this is my first attempt at writing. I have a nice vision for these characters, and I'm just trying to shepherd them where I want the story to go. Thanks so much for reading!

"How about this one?" Melinda pointed to a white ranch house with a double garage.

Daryl glanced over and nodded, driving forward so that he could back into the driveway. After putting the truck in park, they both stepped out and glanced around the area. Melinda pulled out her favorite knife and walked to the garage windows, peering in. There were no cars. Nodding to herself, she walked over to the small porch and red front door. Daryl followed behind her and tapped on the door, waiting. After listening for a moment, he tried the door, which was unlocked.

Daryl opened the door and stepped in, making his way across the entry. To the right was a living room, and to the left was a small dining area leading to a kitchen. Straight ahead was a hallway leading to a bathroom and three bedrooms. The checked the kitchen and doubled back to the hall to clear the rooms. All of the doors were closed. Melinda opened the bathroom door, but that room was empty. Moving on to the first bedroom, she tapped on the door, immediately hearing a moan. Knife in her right hand, she pushed the door open, finding a decayed walker in a nightgown, with the bottom half of its face rotted off. Quickly crossing the room, she grabbed it by the shoulder and drove her knife into its temple. It fell like a stone and left a chunk of flesh in her hand. Melinda dropped it quickly, feeling nauseous. Wiping her hand on the comforter of the bed, she began to breathe through her mouth, willing herself not to vomit. After collecting herself, she walked out, nearly walking straight into Daryl.

 

"Other rooms are clear," he said, looking down at her grubby hand. "Don't ask," she said, walking back to the kitchen to enter the garage. Unlocking the door, she walked into the stuffy area and grabbed a small stepladder that was hanging on a hook and set it up under the garage door opener. Climbing up, she unhooked the chain that held the door closed. She stepped back down and kicked it aside, walking to the door to hoist it up. She could hear Daryl start up the truck, and stepped aside so he could back it in. Once he was done, she closed the door again and found a screwdriver in a toolbox on a bench and jammed it in one of the rails to keep it from being opened.

Looking over the bed of the truck, she smiled. They had done well today, finding a lot of lead and copper pipes from the houses they raided. _Eugene should be able to do well with this stash_ , she thought. Along with the metal, they found clothes, books for the children, canned vegetables, packets of seeds, gas, and other essentials. She opened the passenger side door and grabbed a bottle of water to rinse her hand, following Daryl back into the house. After setting her water down, she went to the other side of the kitchen to the door there, which led to a basement. Pulling her knife out and a small flashlight, she started down the steps, which creaked under her boots. Before she hit the bottom, she did a quick circuit of the area with her light, making sure no walkers were creeping around. Satisfied, she holstered her knife, stepping into the cool, musty room. Cardboard boxes were stacked up against the walls to the right and left, and a sad couch took up the area across from her. Turning around, she walked to the area behind the steps, finding a small door. She turned the knob, but the door wouldn't budge. The warped wood had swelled, nearly sealing it. "Lemme try," came the voice from behind her, causing her to jump about a foot.

 

Daryl chuckled, stepping around her and brushing her shoulder as he passed. Melinda punched his arm. "Jesus, what is wrong with you? I didn't even hear you come down." Daryl looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Kinda the point." She stepped back and smoothed the strands of hair falling out of her ponytail. She watched as he grabbed the doorknob, bracing his right foot on the wall next to it. After a couple of pulls, the door popped open, causing Daryl to lose his balance and nearly fall on his ass. Melinda giggled and stepped away from him before he could grab her. After he steadied himself, she stepped back and peered in with her flashlight. "Jackpot!" she crowed. Inside, were rows upon rows of home canned fruits and vegetables. Green beans, tomatoes, apples, applesauce, peaches, and pickled cucumbers. "God, I hope these are still good," she said.

Daryl grabbed a jar of beans and held it up to the pale flashlight. "Should be allright," he said. "Been in the cool and dark." He twisted the top and opened it, popping a bean into his mouth. After chewing for a moment, he nodded his head, closing it up. They spend the next few minutes, carrying the jars up to the kitchen so that they could look over what they had. After they were done, the went into the master bedroom and pulled the mattress into the living room, as they did whenever they stayed out on a run. Melinda covered up the windows, and double checked the doors, making sure they were locked.

 As the sun set in the sky, they readied themselves for the night, setting out one candle and grabbing a jar of food for each of them. Melinda fished out a couple of spoons, having chosen applesauce for herself. She rinsed them off with some of her water, and held out a spoon to Daryl, who shook his head, popping more beans into his mouth with his hand. Melinda rolled her eyes and sat down cross legged on the mattress. They ate in silence, each enjoying their find. Melinda liked the quiet, appreciating that neither one felt the need to abolish the peace.

After they finished, Daryl offered the first watch, but Melinda insisted that he sleep first. It was quiet for a few moments as Daryl settled on his side. She watched the back of his head, thinking. His shoulders finally started on loosen as she spoke. "How long can this go on with Negan?" Daryl lay still for a moment before answering. "Rick is workin' on a way to end this. Once he has a plan, he'll meet with us and get us up to speed."

 Melinda didn't say anything, lost in thought. She had lost so many people already. Some she knew and loved more than others. But they had all been valuable human lives, which were becoming short supply. The thought of losing more people angered her. Why did people insist on killing each other when there was so many undead around them willing to do it? All at once a feeling of despair overwhelmed her, and her breath hitched in her throat. Daryl stiffened, but did not turn. _I will not love anyone and lose them again,_ she thought. But what could she do?

 She rose quietly, and walked through the house in her socked feet while Daryl slept. She looked at pictures in the master bedroom. Most of them contained an elderly woman, slim and smiling with her arms around an older man. They looked happy together. They had done a lot of traveling, judging from the photos. Smiling in front of the Colosseum, somber in front of the 9/11 memorial. Arms linked together at a luau, forks raised to eat from a large roasted pig. She envied them, their life lived together, enjoying places she would never see. Melinda noticed that there were no children in the pictures. She wondered if they had spent their time together knowing they would not bear little lives. The ache in her heart throbbed as she thought of her husband. Michael had always wanted children, and when she was told that she would not conceive due to blocked tubes and a low egg supply, that started the beginning of the end of their marriage. They could not afford IVF, and neither spoke of adopting. They just started drifting away from each other, like they were in two different currents in a stream. The breakup had been quiet, somber. Even though he was most likely dead, she wished she could show him these photos, shake him into believing that they could have had full lives together.

 Melinda walked back out to the living room, where Daryl was lightly snoring on the mattress. She settled next to him, leaning her back on the couch. He twitched in his sleep, and she gently placed her hand on his head to soothe him. She had done this on every run together, and he did not know. Gently brushing his hair back, she watched him grow still. She leaned back and watched the ceiling.

 After a few hours, Daryl roused himself. Melinda was standing at the front bay window, peeking out behind the curtains. "There's a few walkers on the street, nothing major." Daryl grunted and stood up to stretch, joints popping. "Get some sleep, Lin," he said quietly. His nickname for her gave her a little thrill up her spine, but she wasn't quite sure why. She nodded and took the same spot Daryl just got up from. It was warm and had a little divot, which she snuggled into. After a few moments, she was out.

She was trying to drag her parents with her, knowing something bad was coming but unable to express what. She just knew that she had to keep them with her. But every time she grabbed their arms, flesh would come off in her hands. She looked up, and their faces had become slack. She watched, transfixed as their skin became mottled, eyes became cloudy, and they started to moan. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Deciding to run, she went to turn but her legs wouldn't work. She was rooted to the spot. Tears fell, and she resigned herself to the death that she always knew would come. Suddenly, she felt a warm whisper of heat on her back, up and down her spine. Her fears quelled, and a sense of calm took over her.

Melinda opened her eyes, squinting in the dim light that was shining through an opening in the curtains. She was mortified to see that sometime during the night, she had turned over and attached herself to Daryl's chest, draping her arms around him. He had been rubbing her back when she started to call out in her sleep. She sat up quickly, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. Her heart was thumping loudly, and her back was still warm and tingly from where he had touched her. Daryl looked as if she had slapped him. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to invade your space." Daryl looked at her, stunned. Suddenly his face became stony. "It's no big deal. Just trying to help." He stood up quickly and walked into the kitchen. Melinda stood there dumbly, wondering what she should do. He was really angry at her, she guessed. She wondered if he was disappointed in her because she came across tough, but crumbled every night.  
She followed him into the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

Melinda stood in the door of the kitchen as Daryl came up the basement steps with cardboard boxes and rags. He did not look at her as he crossed to the kitchen table and began stuffing the jars of food in. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she softly spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not as strong as you thought I was." Daryl stopped packing but did not turn. She continued before she lost her nerve. "We've all lost people, I know that. I can't begin to know what this world has cost you. But you, you've got a solid family, people that you still love and care about. I have nothing. I'm alone. I'm always alone." Her breath caught in her throat, but she kept going, tears falling from her closed eyes. "I failed my husband, and I failed as a woman. I can't even bear children. Every time I find someone, they are always taken from me. I dream about them all the time. I dream of the men who tried to rape me, herds of walkers, the people I couldn't save. I even dream about my parents, who died before the world went to hell. And now, with this shit with the Saviors, I know it's going to happen again." She sat down heavily in the chair in front of her.

 For a long moment, Daryl said nothing, not turning around. "I don't think you're weak. A lot of shit has gone down, and I've lost good people. Even my brother, though he wasn't really good. But you don't have to do everything alone. You can't be afraid to care about us. We're your family now."

Melinda sniffled, but said nothing. God, she hated crying. She stood and walked up behind him. Touching him on the shoulder, she felt him stiffen, but she did not remove her hand. Her fingers tingled where her skin touched his, and her breathing sped up. "Thank you," she whispered, dropping her hand. Without another word, she grabbed a box and began to help pack the food.

 After they loaded up the truck, Melinda opened the garage and waited for Daryl to pull the truck out. Once she got in and put on her seat belt, Daryl leaned over towards her. Her heart fluttered, but he merely opened the glove compartment and pulled out the CD carrier that he always brought with him. He handed it to her silently and let her thumb through it. _You're an idiot_ , she thought to herself. He's not interested in you that way. With an internal sigh, she picked out disc two of The Rolling Stones greatest hits and put it in. _You can't always get what you want, indeed,_ she told herself.

 She pulled her hair out of her haphazard ponytail and reached into the console for her brush. With quick strokes, she quickly combed out the knots, not noticing Daryl looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She pulled her hair back up and put the brush back. Rolling down the window halfway, she leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes. Almost unwillingly, she began to sing along softly with the Stones. She had a sweet, pleasant voice, and Daryl smiled to himself. A few strands of hair blew across her face, and without thinking, he reached over to brush them off her face, but stopped himself. As if sensing what he was about to do, she opened her eyes and looked over at him. He had quickly looked back to the road, but her face tingled. With a small sigh, she closed her eyes again, lulled by the gentle sway of the truck.

An hour later, she was jostled awake, blinking rapidly. "We got trouble," Daryl growled, looking intensely at a pillow of smoke pluming overhead. They were pulling up to the gates of Alexandria, and chaos reigned. Walkers scattered the road, one of the walls holding up the gate had buckled, and Melinda could hear screams coming from inside. Daryl gave two sharp honks of the horn, but no one responded. After a few minutes, the gate slowly opened. Melinda felt a cold buzz starting on the top of her head, and felt like she was going to be sick. _Not again, not again, not again_ , over and over in her head. _Not again._

Inside the walls, it looked like a war zone. One of the houses had been shot at, and the windows were destroyed. People were running around frantically and she could see Rick yelling, trying to restore order. They pulled off to the right and Daryl threw the truck into park. Melinda whipped open her door and started to run towards Rick, but when she saw the carnage, she stopped dead in her tracks. Over by the grass, Aaron sat dazedly on the ground, gently cradling Eric's battered body. Melinda's knees gave out, but before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her. It was Daryl. "Don't look!" he told her, but she fought him, pushing herself down. She hit the ground with her knees, and popped back up, running at a full tilt towards Aaron.

As she approached him, she saw that Eric had been beaten, likely by Lucille, and courtesy of Negan. She had heard the stories of what happened to their friend Glenn when they first met Negan, and her stomach had recoiled when Abraham had told her what happened. Melinda gently crouched down, but Aaron didn't acknowledge her. He just gently rocked the body of his love, tears falling on Eric's chest. "It's ok," he crooned, "it's ok." She was numb. _Again, again, again. It's happening again. Gone, all gone_. The words echoed in her brain, over and over. The cold pit grew in her stomach, and she knew she would be sick. She bolted over to the debris of the house and vomited along the side. She gagged and retched until she couldn't breathe, and sank down.

 After a moment, a gentle hand settled onto her shoulder. "Are you ok?" asked Michonne. Melinda gave her a watery smile. "I don't think any of us are ok. Help me up?" Michonne held out her hand and Melinda grasped it like a lifeline. Standing up, she gave Michonne a quick hug and headed back over to Aaron, still gently rocking Eric. Beside him, Rosita was murmuring to him. Melinda looked around for Daryl, but he, Abraham and Rick were not in sight. She ambled towards the cemetery that the Alexandrians had started by the back wall. There she found the three of them digging a grave. She watched for a moment, and then headed back to the front gate.

In the time she was gone, someone had retrieved a sheet and covered Eric's body. She went to Aaron, and with Rosita on one side and her on another, they slowly guided him to the cemetery. He was in a fog, and Melinda's heart ached for him. They had all lost people, but by the grace of God, most of them didn't witness the utter destruction of the person they loved most in the world right at their feet. After several agonizing moments, Heath, Spencer, Eugene and Tobin made the processional with Eric's body. When Aaron saw them approaching, his legs nearly gave out. Rosita and Melinda held him, and Daryl came up and placed his hand on Aaron's shoulder in a sign of comfort. From their conversations, Melinda knew that Aaron had found Daryl's group, and during their tumultuous transition into the Alexandria group, he had been a lifeline and champion of them, especially Daryl.

The men slowly lowered the body into the grave, and everyone stood silent, seemingly lost for words. Rick spoke softly, "Aaron, would you like to say a few words?" Aaron shook his head. "I can't. I just can't, not right now." Rick nodded and looked to Father Gabriel, who had joined the growing group of mourners. Gabriel walked to the head of the grave, and cleared his throat.

"I speak from Isaiah, chapter 57, verses 1 and 2. 'The righteous perish, and no one takes it to heart; the devout are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.'" It was so quiet that they could hear the leaves rustling above. "Eric was a gentle spirit. He was kind and he was generous. He leaves behind a legacy of love and truth, which are often hard to find in this new world. Words cannot express our sorrow, but in time, memories of Eric and his beautiful life will carry us through, as in all of those loved ones we have lost." Father Gabriel stepped over to Aaron and enveloped him in a hug, whispering furiously into his ear. Aaron nodded and bowed his head, tears spilling over his eyes and down his face onto Gabriel's shoulder. The rest of the town bowed their heads respectfully as Daryl shoveled the first pile of dirt. Gradually, people began to disperse, but Melinda, Daryl, Rosita, Tara, Abraham, Spencer, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Sasha, Eugene, Heath, Gabriel and Tobin remained. Each one took a turn adding soil. After Melinda handed the shovel to Carl, she walked over to some daisies blooming along the wall. She pulled out a handful and placed them on the grave when the last bit of earth was added.

 With a nod to Rick, she waited several feet away, as the rest of Aaron's friends retreated to the front of town to begin the process of cleaning up. She would stay all night if Aaron needed her to, but she refused to let him mourn alone. Not right now. She could see him talking softly to the burial site, kneeling down to kiss the dirt. When he started to rise, she walked over to him and took his hand. He still seemed to be in a daze, so she slowly led him towards their house. She took the long way around, so that he didn't have to walk past the front gates.

Opening the door, she led him in and helped him walk upstairs. "Do you want to spend the night in the guest bedroom?" she asked. Aaron shook his head. "I need to be in our room," he answered hoarsely. "I need to be with our things." Melinda nodded and walked him to their room. She paused at the doorway, waiting for a cue from Aaron, but he didn't speak, just moving to the bed to sit down.

Melinda went back downstairs and into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. Looking in the cabinets over the kitchen, she pulled out the whiskey that she had put in there a few weeks ago. She had found it on a run, and had been allowed to keep it. She drank a shot or two some nights, hoping to drown out the dreams. It didn't work for her, but she hoped that it would work for him. Carrying both glasses she walked through his open door. Aaron hadn't moved, just staring at the wall. She set the glasses down on the nightstand and moved to help him take off his shoes and coat. She slowly removed his jacket and bent down to unlace his boots. Taking them over and depositing them in the closet she walked back to him and silently handed him the whiskey. "Drink," she said. He looked at her and her heart almost shattered. He looked completely broken. "Please. For me." Without a word, he took the glass and tipped it to his mouth, swallowing it in one mouthful. He choked and gagged, coughing as tears filled his eyes. He looked at her and Melinda nodded. She helped him stand and pulled down the sheets. "You need to rest. I know it's the last thing you want to do, but I'm begging you, please lay down." Aaron climbed into bed and she pulled the sheets up. He lay on his back, just staring at the ceiling. She kissed his forehead as one would a child and left, closing the door softly.

Walking down the hall, she went into her bathroom and closed that door. Sinking to the ground she let out a choked sob, slowly rocking back and forth. After a while, she rubbed at her eyes, and kicked off her boots. Standing up, she turned on the shower as hot as she could stand it, and stripped off her clothes after quickly brushing her teeth. Melinda wanted to wash the whole experience off of her, to see if she could strip it from her soul. She let the tears fall again, mixing with the water, not caring how much she was wasting. After washing and conditioning her hair, and scrubbing from head to toe, she turned off the knob.

Wrapping herself in a towel, Melinda tiptoed to Aaron's door. She could hear him softly crying. She debated knocking, but decided to leave him alone. He needed to grieve. She padded back to her room and pulled out her pajamas. Dressing quickly in a pink tank top and black, pink and green striped pajama bottoms, she toweled out her hair and quickly brushed it. She left it loose, not caring that it was dripping down her back. She quietly walked down the steps, and went back into the kitchen. She grabbed the whiskey bottle and a glass and headed for the living room. Turning on one small lamp, she sat heavily onto the couch. Pouring some of the amber drink, she quickly swallowed and fought the urge to retch it back up.

 There was a soft knock on the front door. Dragging herself up, she peeked through the peephole and saw that it was Daryl. She opened the door, and he stood there with red eyes, as if he'd been crying. She stepped back and let him in, closing the door behind him. He was unsure of what to do, so she walked past him and went into the kitchen to get another glass. When she came back, he was still in the same spot.

"I should go," he said, his voice cracking. Melinda set the cup down and walked to him, just inches away. Without a second thought, she threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his neck. Hot tears welled up into her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from falling. After a brief pause, she felt his strong arms wrap around her, one resting on her lower back, the other moving up and down her spine, like he did this morning. It was more than she could bear, and she shuddered. Suddenly, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. They were soft and warm, and her head swam. He kissed her back, parting her lips with a gentle stroking of his tongue, and she thought she would spontaneously combust. Her hands reached for his hair, and her fingers grasped at the back of his head like a lifeline. She lost track of time as their lips moved in sync, and when he pulled back, she opened her eyes, confused. "I'm sorry," she said immediately, cheeks flaming red. He gave her a small smile, as his right hand moved from her back to softly cup her cheek. "You need to stop apolgizin'. You didn't do anything wrong. You don't have to be sorry."

 She placed her forehead on his chest, trying to compose herself. "Come have a drink with me."


	7. Chapter 7

They both walked over to the couch. Melinda grabbed the empty glass and poured some whiskey for Daryl. She handed it to him while keeping her eyes down. She tried to calm herself, but her cheeks were still burning. She sat on the right side of the couch, leaning against the arm of the sofa, and pulling her knees up to her chest. Reaching out, she lifted her glass by the tips of her fingers, and put it to her mouth, taking only a small sip this time. Daryl drank a large mouthful, letting a sharp breath out of his nose.

She quietly spoke. "Did you talk to Rick? How did this happen?" Daryl nodded. "He said that Negan and about twelve of his men showed up today for their share. Weren't happy with our 'offering'. The Saviors ransacked the houses, and found stuff that Olivia had hidden away in one of 'em. No one knew about it. Said she was tryin' to help."  
Melinda put her hand to her forehead. "Goddamn it."

Daryl shook his head. "She didn't mean no harm. But Negan was pissed. Said he warned us and had to make an example. Eric tried to reason with him, but Negan snapped and-"

 Melinda interrupted, her voice rising. "No harm? What the fuck was she thinking? How could she do this without consulting anyone? We're supposed to wait for a plan, for fucks sake! Eric is dead because of her!"

Daryl reached out and laid his hand on her knee. "Shh. You don't want Aaron to hear you. She's a mess. She knows she fucked up." Melinda closed her eyes. All she could see was Aaron cradling Eric's broken body. "Fuck this," she muttered. She lifted her glass, and drained it in one gulp, not caring if it made her sick. Taking the bottle, she poured more and took a smaller sip. Daryl slowly took the glass away from her. "You're gonna make yourself sick." She reached back for it. "That's the least of our problems, don't you think?" He relented, and she set it on the table.

"So what happens now?" Daryl sighed and sat back. "Rick's gonna go and talk to the people at the Hilltop and the Kingdom.Let them know the current situation. He thinks our strongest chance to end this would be if we all worked together."

Melinda had been to both communities, when she first arrived at Alexandria. She thought that Gregory, the leader of the Hilltop, was smug, incompetent and shortsighted. She truly did not understand how people supported him. She felt that their best chance for survival and civilization was Jesus, but the quiet man seemed happiest on the sidelines. He was smart and strong, and she wished that he would join them at Alexandria.

On on the other hand, Ezekiel, the self-proclaimed king of the Kingdom, fascinated her. He was eccentric and flamboyant, sitting on a throne with a pet tiger, whom he called Shiva. He was also thoughtful, and fair, the the people in the kingdom were prospering and devoted to him. When she had visited, she was in awe. She surprised everyone, including herself, by walking up to Shiva. The large cat did not growl, instead rumbling and closing her eyes when she placed her hand on Shiva's head, petting her as one would a house cat. "Look at this brave young maiden!" Ezekiel had exclaimed. "Why, my Shiva simply adores you!" Even now, Melinda didn't know what possessed her to do it.

Daryl had been there, and his face had gone completely pale when she approached the feline. A small laughed escaped her and Daryl looked at her questioningly. Melinda smiled. "Just thinking about Shiva." Ezekiel told her that she was the only one to have ever attempted to pet the tiger. Daryl gave her a small smile in return. Then his eyes darkened. "I just wish Carol would come home. I don't understand why she's still there."

Melinda felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She knew there was a history between Daryl and Carol. Tara had mentioned to her how close they were. Apparently many nights had been spent among the group discussing their relationship before she had arrived. Carol was already at the Kingdom when Melinda showed up, and she had not that the chance to meet her when Melinda visited. She tried to calm her stomach. "You miss her," she said. "You love her."

Daryl looked down at his hands, and took another sip of whiskey. "Well, yeah, I love her." He looked at Melinda, who had a bittersweet smile on her face. "I ain't in love with her. But she's one of the most important people in my life. She believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. She made me feel like I was worth somethin'. I ain't never had that before. Besides, I think her and Ezekiel are a thing. But she won't talk to me about it." Melinda let out a slow breath, not even realizing she was holding it. She looked at him, not sure what to say. After a moment, she took a gulp of whiskey as well. _Screw it_ , she thought. It's now or never.

It was her turn to look at her hands. "You are worth something. You are smart, and strong. You are braver than anyone I've ever met, and you have a huge heart. You are amazing." Her cheeks flushed, with embarrassment and alcohol. She tipped her glass and swallowed the dregs, pouring herself more. Any more, and she would be flat on the floor, she assumed. Daryl cleared his throat. "You could have any guy you wanted. Why are ya interested in me?"

Melinda's head snapped up, cheeks and eyes blazing. Oh, the whiskey was hitting her now, and her inhibition was floating away like a balloon. "Like who? Who in this God forsaken town could I have, that I actually have feelings for? Huh?" She stood up, and so did Daryl, who was agitated. "Lemme see, Spencer can't keep his eyes off of you. Christ, even Eugene is constantly following you around."

Melinda got in his face, eyes still gleaming. "Listen, if you're not interested in me, that's fine. But, don't-" Melinda poked him in the chest, "pass me off onto men that I have no interest in." Reeling away from him, she snarled, "I feel safe with you, I feel strong with you, and your goddamned blue eyes leave me breathless. You make me feel like I could be happy again. Or you did, until just now. I'm sorry you don't see all the wonderful things I see." Daryl grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. She was putty in his hands, and completely buzzed. "I never said I wasn't interested. I think about you all the time. I worry about you because you're so damn pigheaded. And you're too beautiful to be with someone like me."

 _OK, that's it_ , thought Melinda. He still had his hands on her shoulders. She knocked them off and grabbed his face. If he wasn't going to believe her, she was going to show him. She leaned in and kissed him with all the emotion she was feeling. She hadn't felt this alive in years. Daryl was passive at first, which made her angrier, until he brought his hands up to the sides of her face, and smashed his lips against her. A deep moan came from her throat. She felt like she had no control, her hands explored his arms, his chest, his shoulders, before wrapping them around his neck and pulling herself into him, her breasts pushing against his chest. His hand moved from her face to her behind, massaging it gently. It sent shivers up her spine, and her lips opened to allow him access. He tongue gently probed her mouth as he guided her back to the couch. When her legs hit the front of the couch, she sat down, but Daryl never broke contact. She lay back and he crawled on top of her. He left frantic kisses along her collarbone and jawline. She hitched her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. He could not be close enough for her.

All of a sudden, they heard movement upstairs, breaking the spell they were under. They hurriedly separated and tried to make themselves look presentable if Aaron was coming down. But as they listened, they heard footsteps walk and a door close. Aaron must have gone into the bathroom. They sat for a moment catching their breath. Daryl's husky voice broke the silence. "I think I should go."

 Melinda grabbed his hand. "Please don't. Can't you stay here tonight? Sleep with me?" Daryl ran his rough finger down her nose. "Just sleep," she said. "I'm exhausted and it has been a hell of a day." Daryl helped her up, and walked to the steps. "Lead the way, Freckles." She smiled a silly grin, and took his hand while going upstairs. She walked into her room and closed the door behind them. She could see Daryl trying to be inconspicuous as he looked around her room. She pulled down the bedspread and sheets and sat down, waiting, as he peered at her. "I haven't showered yet." She patted the bed. "I don't care. Just take your jacket and boots off." As he did, she slid over to the far side of the bed and lay on her side. She felt him slip in after her, and he lay next to her. She reached back and grabbed his arm and put it around her waist. He lay next to her, breathing in the scent of her freshly washed hair. That was how they spent the night, huddled together, touching gently. Melinda had no bad dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

Melinda woke to Daryl's hands lightly moving up and down her arm. Back and forth he made a circuit, occasionally slipping them down to her waist. She had slept curled up on her side the entire night, never moving. Her right hip was aching so she scooted over so that she could turn to face him. When she moved, her head began to throb a bit. As she turned, she caught Daryl's eyes. They were softer than she had ever seen in the past few months. "Morning," he said. "Good morning yourself," she answered. "Did you get any sleep?" she asked. "A bit," he replied.

She thought of the events of last night, and her cheeks began to get pink. She buried her head in his chest, and he chuckled. "Don't get shy on me now," he said. She didn't respond, just reaching for his hand. After a moment, he spoke again. "Are ya having second thoughts?" She could hear the uncertainty in is voice and she lifted her head. Without a word, she leaned her face into his for a kiss. If was soft and sweet. "Not at all," she said. "I feel guilty, but I'm glad that last night happened. I hate the way it came about, but I know that if it hadn't occurred, we wouldn't be here right now. Is that the most horrible thought in the world?" Daryl squeezed her hand. "Nah," he said. "I get what you're sayin'."

 She pulled her hand from his, and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Moving her hand to the back of his head, she pulled him into another kiss. He hand grasped her hip and tightened. She lifted her leg and placed it on top of him. Shifting her, he pushed her onto her back and eased himself on top of her. They took their time exploring each other, fingers on each others bodies, at first tentative, and then getting more bold. Daryl kissed her neck, moving down to her collarbone. Melinda let out a groan , and Daryl responded in kind. She dipped her head and pulled his earlobe into her mouth, grazing her teeth along it. He shuddered, grinding his hips into her. She felt like she was going to suffocate, in the best way possible, wrapping her legs around his waist.

 Just then, there was a soft knock on her door. They both froze, panting. "Yes," Melinda called out, her voice hoarse. "It's me," came the reply from the other side. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm up. I'm going to go to see Father Gabriel." Melinda was quiet for a brief moment. "I can come with you if you like," she said, locking wide eyes with Daryl, who was a still as a statue. "That's ok," said Aaron. "I'd like to do it on my own. But I'll check in later." Melinda let out a slow breath. "I'll see you soon, then." Aaron answered her. "See you soon." After a moment, he spoke again. "See you later, Daryl."

Melinda was mortified, made worse by the look on Daryl's face. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. All he could manage was a gruff, "Bye." He rolled off her and fell back onto the bed. Melinda sighed. "Well, I feel like a teenage girl who just got busted by her father. That was a mood killer." Daryl just raised his eyebrow at her and she grinned. The levity only lasted a moment, when she remembered why Aaron was going to visit with Gabriel.

 Sitting up quickly, she twisted around to face Daryl. Her hair was wild, and she had a determined look on her face. "I want you to teach me to hunt," she said matter of factly. Daryl sat up to face her. "What's bringing this on?" he questioned. She thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Well, I can shoot. I've been good with a gun for a long time. I'm ok with a knife, but I want to be able to do as much as I can. I want to be able to hunt, to provide for myself and for anyone else that needs it. And that takes skill. You have it, and I think I can be good at it. I'm a quick learner. I know you can teach me."

Daryl looked down, picking at a loose thread on her comforter. "I don't doubt that. But I don't want you in any more dangerous situations than you have to be." She started to protest, but he held his hand up. "I worry about you enough. It's dangerous out there, and I don't want you gettin' hurt. There's too much that can go wrong." She met his gaze and said nothing. He looked down again, and she took his hand, twining their fingers together. "You can't protect me from everything. I told you that before. Would you leave me without all the skills you have? I can do it, I know I can. Let me prove it to you. I want us to be a team. We can be there for each other. I spent too long depending on other people, and then just surviving day to day when I was on my own. If something bad happens, don't make me go back to that. I won't." She put her fingers under his chin, causing him to look up into her eyes. "We're a team," she said again. He searched her eyes, for what, she didn't know. After a long silence, he spoke. "All right. But we do it my way." She gave him a satisfied smile. "Deal."

Daryl swung his legs off the bed, standing up and stretching. Melinda followed, and bent over to touch her toes, stretching out her muscles. He crept over to her and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm gonna go check in with Rick. See ya later?" She nodded and smiled. He quickly turned and went to the door, opening and closing it softly.

An hour later, after she was cleaned, fed and dressed, Melinda headed out the door, to the pantry. She had no desire to see Olivia, but wanted to see if the inventory had been done on the supplies they brought back the day before. They had been forgotten in the uproar when they had arrived, but she felt she should follow up. Winding her way through the street, she nodded when she saw Spencer coming out of his house. She flashed back to Daryl's words last night, telling her that Spencer had a thing for her.

Spencer smiled brightly at her, and her ever present blush returned. "Hey, Spencer," she said. Spencer fell in line beside her. "How are you holding up?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested. "I'm hanging in there," she responded. Her features darkened slightly. "Have you seen Aaron?" Spencer shook his head. "I'm heading for my shift on watch, so I haven't seen him. I'll let him know you're looking for him if I do." Melinda thanked him, and they continued walking. As they approached the gate, they said their goodbyes and Melinda veered to the pantry.

Steeling herself, she opened the door, and was surprised to see Tara there instead of Olivia. Melinda strided over to her and gave her a strong embrace. The two chatted for a moment, both trying to avoid talking about what had happened the day before. After a brief lull in the conversation, Tara piped up. "Have you seen Daryl? He didn't come home last night, and I'm worried about him. He's close to Aaron, and he tends to shut down when something bad happens." Melinda said nothing, debating internally what to say. They had not talked about how they would approach their relationship in public. Hell, they had barely talked at all. "Um, I did see him this morning. He seemed to be holding up all right." Tara tilted her head to the side, but said nothing. Just then, Rosita opened the door, and Melinda did a mental dance of thanks. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the three women set to completing the inventory of the previous days haul. Tara was thrilled with the clothes that they found, and Rosita remarked that they could keep Eugene busy with the lead and copper. They were all excited about the canned vegetables, and Tara teased about the filthy things that she would do for some of the applesauce. It was nice to joke around, a temporary reprieve from the grief that seemed to accompany them everywhere.

 After a few hours, everything was accounted for and put in it's place. Rosita promised to hand out the children's books, saving a pristine copy of The Cat in the Hat for Judith, Rick's daughter. There were several children in Alexandria, but little Judy seemed to be the apple of everyone's eyes, including Melinda. She loved to hold the child, singing and whispering into her ear, when Michonne made her rounds with her. She had a tinkly little laugh, and it warmed her heart. Though she had never had children of her own, she loved to be around them, and it brought out a longing in her that never ceased. She shook herself out of those thoughts. She was determined not to dwell. As the women started to part, Melinda grabbed a few cereal bars to hand out to the people on watch. Bounding out the door, she walked along the wall, throwing up the food and saying her hellos. Most people were subdued, but friendly. She couldn't really blame them. They were still reeling from the events, but determined to show their resolve, especially to their leader, Rick. Melinda wondered when he was planning to leave for the other settlements. Hopefully Daryl would have an update. She wanted to volunteer, and made a mental note to check in with Rick and Michonne. After she was done handing out her cereal, she headed for home to check on Aaron.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm...

"He's heading west, right?"

Melinda looked behind her, and Daryl confirmed her guess by nodding. She felt a sense of satisfaction that she improved with every hunt. They were tracking a large buck, seemingly only a few minutes behind him. Melinda hoped that he would start meandering so that they could catch up. She desperately wanted to take him down. A few years ago, the thought of hunting deer, with their soft pelts and big brown eyes would have disturbed her. But now, it was a part of survival, and she found her moral compass had shifted.

 "And even though the wind is behind us, we can still track him, though he may pick up our scent?" she confirmed. Again Daryl nodded. "Nowadays, they may not even have much fear of the living." She reached back for his hand, and he obliged. They continued following the tracks, she almost as quiet in her steps as he. After about twenty minutes, he pulled her to a stop and put his finger to his lips. "About fifteen yards ahead," he whispered. Peering through the brush, she could see him, white tail swishing. Daryl slowly raised his bow and handed it to her. Melinda took it, cradling it against her shoulder like he taught her. She took aim, breathing slowly. One, two, three, she thought. She let the arrow fly, and it lodged itself into the bucks hindquarters. The male made a snuffling cry, and took off through the brush. Melinda flashed a triumphant grin, and Daryl rolled his eyes. "First shot this time," she teased. Daryl answered, "Ya haven't caught him yet. We still gotta take him down." Melinda blew a raspberry at him and he couldn't help but laugh. His gruff chuckle made her feel warm inside. She loved when he laughed, and slowly over the last few weeks, she witnessed him opening up more and more.

 Over the last month, they spent almost all their time together. Hunting, making supply runs. Wherever he was, she was not far behind and vice versa. On the occasional night that they were in Alexandria, they stayed with Aaron. He had moved some of his clothes and personal supplies into her room, and they fell into a routine.

Shortly after Eric's death, they had made love for the first time. Melinda was nervous, having not been with anyone since her divorce. But Daryl was gentle and patient, never trying to rush her. He had been laying in bed, looking at one of her books while she had excused herself to use the bathroom. She came in wearing a nightshirt, standing cautiously at the door. He looked up and smiled at her. "What's up, Freckles?" Her heart had flip flopped like a frog on a griddle, whatever the hell that meant, and she slowly approached him. In one motion, she removed the shirt, leaving only her panties on. He looked her up and down, with a hunger in his eyes that she had never seen. It burned away her caution, and she kneeled on the bed and straddled him. He went to sit up, but she placed her hand on his chest, stilling him. She leaned over, and kissed him softly, moving from his lips to his neck. Helping him remove his shirt, she resumed the kisses, making her way down his chest, which was moving up and down rapidly. Looking up, she caught his eye. He was watching her with hooded eyes, and in that moment, Melinda knew that this was all she ever wanted. She didn't even remember her husband Michael looking at her the way Daryl did. Before she knew what happened, he grabbed her by the waist and turned her on her back, putting himself on top of her. Up and down her body he placed gentle kisses, swooping between her legs. When she felt she could take no more, she pulled him up and reached to unbutton his pants. She wanted to reciprocate, but was too far gone. He pulled them off and placed himself on top of her, gently guiding himself in. With the first push, she gasped.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back. "It's been a while," she admitted. "Can we go slow?" He placed a kiss on her cheek and smiled. He slowly began moving in and out, allowing her to become comfortable. As the pace began to quicken, she matched his thrusts in time, until her center began to warm, becoming more and more sensitive, and she cried out in pleasure, her whole body convulsing. As she began to relax, Daryl's pace quickened, signaling his own sweet release. With a growl, he exploded inside her, his head dropping onto her breasts. They lay silent, catching their breath, while she ran her nails lightly up and down his back, lightly tracing the scars there. At that point, he hadn't told her their origins. But as the days went by, he opened up to her about his life, and all the troubles he had seen. Now it was almost unconscious, when she traced them, seeming to try to erase the bad memories from his life.

 She was shaken out of her reverie when Daryl whistled. They had been walking for about an hour when Daryl sped up ahead of her. The buck was ahead of them, limping badly and slowing down. Melinda took the bow, wanting to finish what she started. She crept closer, focusing all her attention on where she should shoot. She did not want the animal to suffer. Releasing the arrow, it made contact with the male's neck, dropping him to the ground. She jogged over, pulling out her knife. Slowly approaching, she came along its back, avoiding its thrashing legs, and plunged her knife into its head. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She looked up to see Daryl watching her with an amused expression. Her face started to redden. "What?" she asked accusingly. Daryl snorted. "You'll apologize for anything, won't ya?" He knew that would piss her off. She was snippy when she answered back. "Well, seeing as I don't like killing things that never did anything to me, I guess so." He laughed, knowing how easy it was to get her riled up.

Melinda pulled out the tarp she had in her backpack, and together they rolled the deer onto it, making it easier to drag back to their truck. By the time they reached the road, they were sweaty and tired, stopping to take a drink after they loaded it onto the bed. She held out her hand for the keys, eyebrows cocked. Daryl shook his head. "Nah uh," he said. She advanced on him, eyes shining. "I took that big bastard down myself, which means I get to drive. Hand them over." Muttering under his breath, he dropped them into her palm, and she climbed into the drivers seat. He jumped in the passenger side as she buckled her seat belt. He knew enough not to say anything and she grabbed his CD case out of the glove box. Pulling out a disc that she had placed in the back sleeve, she popped it into the player and turned it up. Prince came booming out of the speakers and she put the car into drive. As Let's Go Crazy belted out, she gunned it, speeding towards home.

They passed very few walkers, a welcome respite, even though she knew the Saviors were responsible. As a trade off for their food and supplies, the Saviors kept the area nearly walker free. _At least they do something for their extortion_ , she thought. The day was warm, the kind of fall day that she always loved. The leaves had started to change, and a relief from the hotter temperatures. Absently, she reached for Daryl's hand, and he acquiesced. She began to sing, and he leaned his head back, just listening. After about forty-five minutes, she made the turn onto the lane to Alexandria. She drove carefully up the road, waving to Sasha in the guard tower as they passed. Sasha waved back, and seeing the carcass in the bed of the truck, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. Melinda grinned back at her. Daryl snorted and Melinda glanced at him at the corner of her eye. "Uh, don't you want me to do well?" she asked. "Sure, but ya don't have to be so cocky about it." She rolled her eyes, muttering, "No more cocky than you are." He heard her and pinched her leg. She swatted him back and beeped the horn twice so that someone would open the gate.

The big door opened, and she saw that it was Aaron. She pulled through and turned the truck around, backing it up to the pantry garage door. Climbing out, she practically skipped over to him to brag. He smiled broadly when he saw her face, happy as a child. "I did it! All by myself this time!" She even sounded like a kid, he thought. He patted her head, and she nudged him with her shoulder. "Good girl!" he laughed. This time, she lightly kicked him in the shin, turning to walk back to the garage. "I'm a woman, not a girl," she swore under her breath. "God forbid I be happy about my accomplishment." That only made him laugh more. She held her head up and stomped up to the steps to knock on the door. Tara opened up, and seeing her smile, gave her a fist bump.

After opening up the garage door, they dragged in the buck and laid him on a table. They set to work skinning the deer. She was still uncomfortable doing it, but she dug in and tried her best. She frequently stopped to admire Daryl's skill, and the way the muscles in his armed moved while he worked. Tara saw the look on her face and poked her in the back. Melinda blushed, and went back to work.

"Hah, you finally did it, huh?"

 They all turned to see Rick and Michonne standing in the driveway. Melinda flashed her smile, and Rick started towards them. He clapped Daryl on the back. "We're not gonna need you anymore, now, with her around." He jumped back before Daryl could hit him with the innards of the deer. Everyone laughed, and Michonne came over and gave her a virtual high five, not wanted to get blood on her hands. The five of them discussed the events of the day, and Melinda regaled them all with the tale of her big catch. They seemed impressed, and assured her that the meat would be gone in no time. They had all agreed that any animal that was brought back would be for the Alexandrian people, not the Saviors.

 Melinda and Daryl quickly finished cutting up the meat, and Tara loaded it on to a rolling tray to put in the large refrigerator in the corner of the garage. Melinda insisted that they keep the remains and store them as well for Shiva. She looked forward to seeing the tiger soon. After washing their hands, they said their goodbyes to Tara, and the remaining four walked together. Michonne updated them about the men and women who had come from the Kingdom for weapons training, lamenting that there were still not enough. Melinda assured her that with time, more would come around. "I hope so," Michonne replied. "We can't continue to scrounge around for scraps, like dogs in the street. We have to take a stand, or we'll never get our lives back." Melinda silently agreed. But until the Hilltop sent their people to join, they would continue to be hopelessly outnumbered. "Have you guys made any headway with Gregory?" she asked. Rick shook his head. "Jesus is pleading our case, but Gregory won't budge. Feels there will be hell to pay if we fail." Melinda was exasperated. "There's hell to pay now," she said angrily. Rick agreed, saying, "We're going to keep trying. I can be very persuasive when I try. " They all laughed at that.

 As they approached their respective houses, they said their goodbyes. Melinda and Daryl walked up the steps and opened the door, happy to be spending the night in town. She went into the kitchen, opening the cupboard and grabbing their whiskey and two glasses, bringing them upstairs to the bedroom. They both undressed, heading to the shower. Turning on the water, they stepped in. Melinda began to wash her hair, enjoying the cleansing feeling. She felt rough hands circle her waist as she rinsed, and felt for his body since her eyes were closed. They kissed, and he turned her around so he could wash her back. Lathering up a washcloth, he slowly scrubbed her shoulders, moving down her back. She almost moaned in ecstasy it felt so good. He continued down, cleaning her from head to toe. Then it was her turn, and she washed his hair, running her nails along his scalp, getting every bit of dirt off of him. Before long, they were clean, arms wrapped around each other, kissing languidly under the water. Reaching behind her, without breaking contact, he turned off the faucet, and reached out for their towels. They stepped out together, and headed for their room. Barely dry, the fell into bed together, the rest of the day forgotten.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end...

Melinda woke the next morning, earlier than she usually did. Peering to her left, she watched Daryl, asleep and snoring softly. Not wishing to wake him, she slipped out of bed, grabbing her clothes and weapons belt and softly closing the door behind her. She quickly dressed and cleaned herself, giving her teeth a good brushing. She quietly went down the steps, crossing the kitchen to start the coffee. She started the pot of water, and pulled out the instant coffee, wrinkling her nose. She hated the instant, but begging dogs can't be choosers, she thought to herself.

There was a soft knock on the door. She went down the hall and opened it, seeing it was Tara. Melinda waved her in, and both stifled a yawn at the same time. "It's too damn early," Tara groused, scratching behind her ear. "Come on," Melinda motioned to her, "coffee's almost ready." Tara perked up slightly. "You have coffee? I've been out for two days." Melinda cocked one eyebrow at her. "Cool your jets," she teased. "It's instant." Tara faked gagging at her and Melinda bopped her on the head. The two women headed towards the kitchen, and Tara sat at the table, resting her head in her hands, while Melinda busied herself getting them some caffeine. Pulling out the sugar and creamer, she set them on the table and grabbed the water, which was now ready. After getting everything they needed, they sat quietly, trying to ready themselves for the day.

 "Where's Prince Charming?" Tara asked and Melinda made a face. "Still asleep," she answered. "This is one of the few times I've been up before him, so I let him go. He doesn't get enough rest." she said, looking thoughtful. Tara sat up straighter, and looked at her friend curiously. "Have you two used the L-word yet?" Melinda felt her face get hot. She shook her head and took a sip of coffee, choosing her words carefully. "We haven't. I love him, more than I've probably ever loved anyone in my life, which is odd to me because we've only known each other for a few months. But, given the current circumstances, it feels like a few years." She took another sip. "He may never tell me, and he may not even feel as strongly as I do, but he shows me how important I am, and that's all that matters. Love is just a word."

Tara patted her arm. "He's crazy about you, trust me. I've seen how he looks at you when you're not paying attention." She seemed wistful, and Melinda figured that she was thinking about Denise. It had only been about three months since she was killed, and she knew her friend was still mourning. Tara slowly swirled her cup around, sloshing the liquid. "Denise told me she loved me right before Heath and I went on that run, and I told her I would tell her back after we returned." Melinda clasped her friends hand, squeezing it. "I'll regret that every day. Look," she said, making eye contact with Melinda. "It may just be a word, but it has power. Don't wait to make sure he knows how you feel. You never know if you'll ever get another chance."

At that moment, Daryl walked into the room, jeans and socks on, his shirt in his hands. Melinda flushed, and Tara let out a wolf whistle. Daryl went over to Tara and mussed up her hair, shaking his head. "What?" Tara asked. "Just because I don't eat the food doesn't mean I can't look at the menu." Daryl snorted, and leaned over to kiss Melinda on the lips. She looked at him closely, not sure if he heard their conversation. His face was unreadable, however, so she decided not to obsess about it. He grabbed a cup and some coffee and sat down with them. The conversation turned mundane, and they talked about their visit to the Hilltop today. Melinda wasn't excited, because she thought that it would be fruitless. Gregory was stubborn, and she felt that he would not give in to their request to train the Hilltoppers to help them fight. But, they had bullets to trade, and it was a necessary trip.

After finishing their drinks, they got up as a group to head out. Melinda and Daryl stopped at the door to put on their boots, and Daryl fastened Melinda's belt around her hips. His hands lingered there momentarily, and he placed a soft kiss on her lips again. She looked at him curiously, but he said nothing. He simply tugged on her hand and pulled her out the door. The three then headed up to the gate to meet the rest of the crew heading out.

As they reached they RV, they gave a half-hearted wave to the rest of the travelers, most of whom also looked like they would rather be counting sheep. Abraham and Rick were loading their supplies for trade, while Michonne and Sasha leaned against the RV, chatting quietly. Daryl walked over to the men, and Melinda and Tara headed to the women. After everything was accounted for, the seven climbed into the lumbering vehicle, each claiming a spot. Abraham insisted on driving, and Sasha took passenger seat, while the rest settled in. Rick and Michonne took one couch, while Melinda and Daryl claimed the other. Tara stretched out on the bed in the back, saying she wanted to get a bit more sleep.

Abraham expertly guided the RV out of the gate, and off they went. In no time, the conversations started, each of them talking about bits of their old lives. Michonne shared stories of favorite art pieces she liked, as she had owned a gallery in Atlanta. Melinda told her about the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, and they jokingly made plans to head there someday to swipe some paintings. This led to Melinda sharing some of her favorite spots in her beloved town. She told them the botanical gardens, and riding up the Duquesne Incline. Her favorite part of the city, she said, was riding through the Fort Pitt tunnel. No matter how many times she drove through, coming out on the other side of the mountain straight into the city was breathtaking. She grew quiet, thinking about her old city, and Daryl gently stroked her hair. Sensing her melancholy, Rick launched into stories about his funniest arrests while a Sherrif's Deputy outside of Atlanta. This led to stories about drunken escapades, and Abraham sharing that he had ended up passed out in Houston, bare assed naked and sleeping on a fire ant hill. They all laughed, and Melinda leaned back onto Daryl's chest, resting her hand on his leg. Rick and Michonne sat side by side, arms linked together. In what felt like no time, they were soon gliding up to the Hilltop's gates.

 Abraham reached his arm out the driver's side window and waved to the men guarding the top of their walls. They nodded and the gate opened. Pulling off to the right, they were soon met by Jesus. As they all stepped off the RV, Jesus approached, shaking hands with Rick and saying his hellos to the rest. A couple men, whom Melinda had not seen before stepped up to help collect the boxes that had been brought from Alexandria. Jesus and Rick double checked the contents, and went off to discuss what was to be taken home. The rest stretched their legs, while looking around.

The mansion that dominated the camp loomed over them. It was stately and old, and a portion of the Hilltop residents resided in it. At least, the ones that Gregory deemed acceptable. The rest of the population had small trailers that had been brought over from a local FEMA camp. The people and colony were rustic, even housing a blacksmith. Other than their leader, the people seemed helpful and capable. Melinda still thought that Rick was probably wasting his time trying to appeal to Gregory, but it wasn't her place to disagree. They eventually headed to the mansion, with Jesus leading the way.

Opening the double doors, they filed into the reception area while Jesus knocked on the office doors to the left. Gregory came out, in his usual suit. He fancied himself a cerebral leader, and had no interest in the hard work that his people did. Unctuous was the first word that popped into her head when she saw him. Everything about him was false, and oily. "Rick!" he called out. "How nice to see you!" Rick stiffened, and held out his hand. Gregory glanced at it, but ignored it, instead slapping him on the back, a bit too hard. Rick gritted his teeth, but said nothing, and Michonne's right hand twitched. "If you have a few moments, I'd like to speak with you, Gregory. Is Maggie available?" Rick asked. Gregory turned to Jesus, and said, "Jesus, be a dear and fetch Maggie. Let her know her friends are here."

Jesus nodded and jogged up the steps, taking two at a time. While he was gone, Gregory led Rick into his office, shutting the door behind them. A minute later, Jesus came down the steps, with Maggie behind him. Melinda had only met her briefly, so she stepped back as her friends crowded around her, exchanging hugs and kisses. The pretty brunette had a wan smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Losing her husband, Glenn, had shaken her to her core. On top of that, she was pregnant, about five months along. Her belly was rounded, and Tara and Sasha took turns rubbing it. Michonne held Maggie's hand, and Daryl and Abraham chatted with her, updating her on the comings and goings at Alexandria. She knew that Daryl's group took her move to the Hilltop hard, but they understood why she could not stay with them. It was a constant reminder of her happy ending that would never be. Melinda gave her a little wave, and went over and sat on the bench by the door. Daryl looked over to check on her, and she gave him a wink and a smile. After a few more moments, they let Maggie head into the office with Rick and Gregory. Melinda knew that Gregory had designs on Maggie, but he was fighting a losing battle. Maggie was no shrinking violet. She had a strong backbone, and would not be pushed around or coerced.

 They heard raised voices in the office, but Melinda couldn't make out what they were saying. The door whipped open, and Rick came stalking out, clearly angry. Maggie looked troubled and Gregory was smug. Melinda fought the urge to roll her eyes and stood up. Yes, this was a fool's errand. Gregory would never agree to stand up to Negan, and it could end up costing all of them their lives. Jesus followed behind Rick and the rest headed after them. Once they got outside, Jesus begged Rick for a little more patience. "Just give me more time." Rick shook his head. "We don't have more time. This bullshit deal is putting us all under the gun. Winter is on its way and we won't ever get ahead when we're scrounging around for God knows how many other people. If we can't go through Gregory, maybe we should just go around him. Talk to your people, Jesus. See if any of them are willing to step up." Jesus nodded. "I will, I promise you." They made plans to meet again in two weeks, and the rest of the group said their goodbyes. It was hard on Rick, not getting the results he wanted, but he strode ahead of them after kissing Maggie on the forehead. The men went over to start loading up the vegetables and food that were agreed on, and the ladies helped. When it was all put in the RV, they started back on their way home. The mood was sullen, and no one spoke much, each lost in their own thoughts.

As they pulled up to their gate, Abraham looked up and noticed one of the Alexandrians frantically waving from the lookout. "Rick!" Abraham barked out, and waved the leader to the front. They all looked out the window as the gate opened, and Melinda's breath caught in her throat when she saw the trucks parked inside. Negan was here.


	11. Chapter 11

Before Abraham could even park the RV, Rick was at the door. He turned and looked at them, mild panic in his eyes. "No one says or does anything, understand?" They all nodded. _Again. Not again. Never again_. As they all got out, Melinda stopped in her tracks with a start. On the ground in almost the exact same spot that Eric's body had lain, was another one, this tim _e_ face down. Melinda almost hit the ground, until she scanned the crowd and saw Aaron's face. Looking closer, she realized it was Spencer. _Not again,_ she thought _._ _Never again_. Rick walked ahead of them, and instinctively, Melinda separated herself from Daryl, who did not react.

Negan was sitting on the porch, feet up on the railing, with a terrified Olivia on one side and Carl on the other. Negan smiled lazily and called out, "Rick! Where the FUCK have you been?" Olivia let out a squeak, which caused Negan to turn towards her. "Relax," he said, patting her thigh. "You're a big girl. A very big girl. You'll be fine." Olivia's face crumbled, and her eyes filled. Negan looked abashed, standing up quickly. "Jesus, it was a joke. Don't take it so personal. I'd still fuck you." He winked at her and snapped his fingers in Carl's direction, signaling him to follow. Carl stood stiffly, but complied.

 Coming down the steps, he sauntered over to Rick, who was standing just beside Spencers body. "Why?" he muttered, looking Negan in the eye. Negan glanced down, as if he'd forgotten that he'd beaten another one of their people to death. "Oh, him? That was a favor, really. This fucker, " he said, kicking Spencer in the side, "tried to sell you out. " Rick looked thunderstruck. "You're lying, " he accused in a low voice. Negan's face became stony. "I don't lie. Not ten minutes after we arrived, he told me that you were off trying to recruit fighters. Said if I took you out, that he would lead this fucking band of misfits, and we'd have no further trouble."

As if to emphasize his point, he kicked the body again, this time at the remains of Spencer's head. He looked at one of his men, a blonde with burn scars all over the left side of his face. "Dwight, didn't this piece of shit try to stage a coup?" Dwight nodded. "Yes, Negan." Negan smiled, and Melinda's hair stood up on her neck. He put his arm around Rick's shoulder, and she felt Michonne shift her stance, ready to fight. Melinda gently placed her hand on Michonne's arm, a silent warning. He walked with Negan over to the garage of the pantry, which was open. "I gotta ask. Are you trying to recruit people, Rick? Because that would be very stupid. One of the stupidest fucking things I've heard. And you're not stupid, Rick, are you?" Rick shook his head. "I didn't think so. Because if you are that stupid, I don't think we can continue our arrangement. I can't work with people I don't trust." He snapped his fingers again, and this time Dwight appeared with his bat, Lucille. "I have no trouble beating every single person in this shithole to death, and I will fucking dance on your skulls."

Something broke in Melinda, and she knew it could never be fixed. Before she could stop herself, she pushed through the crowd to the front. "Stop! Please!" Everyone looked at her, and she heard Tara gasp. Rick shook his head vehemently at her but she ignored him. As she approached the twosome with her hands up, Negan looked her up and down, taking in every inch of her. She felt naked, but continued on, with wide eyes. This was the closest she had ever been to Negan. By pure dumb luck, or Daryl's careful planning, she had not been here for a property exchange since her first day at Alexandria. She looked at him for a moment, her mind blank. He was a couple inches taller than her, with hazel eyes, black hair, and gleaming white teeth. His broad shoulders straightened and he flashed a big smile.

 "Rick! Where have you been hiding this little peach? What's your name sweetheart?" Melinda refused to meet his eyes, and answered. "Melinda." Negan cocked his head and smiled again. "What can I do for you, Melinda? I gotta say, you've got balls. I expect most people in this fucking town are pissing their pants right about now." Melinda fought to keep her voice from shaking. "May I speak to you for a moment?" she said, gesturing to the garage. He said nothing, instead walking over to the garage. He called out behind him, "Dwight, if any of these fuckers tries anything, execute the kid." Melinda followed him like child. _Not again. Never again_. Once in the garage, he turned to her with his arms out. "You got my attention, Peach. What did you want to talk about?" Melinda unconsciously matched his stance. "A truce, " she replied. He did not react, so she continued. "You need supplies, and we provide, I get it. I also know you have your rules, and if they're broken, we get punished. But you can't kill all of us, not if you expect to take care of your people." He started to interrupt, but she continued on, her eyes closing. "Please don't hurt anyone." He walked up to her, his hand wrapping around her arm, forcing her to open her eyes. She looked at him, calmly. "You're in no position to make requests, doll." She took a deep breath. "I understand that. I do. And I'm not making a request. I'm offering you a different way." He dropped his hand and waited. "If you leave these people in peace today, I will go with you and work for you."

 He laughed so loudly that she jumped. "And why would I agree to that? So that you could try to kill me or my people. Fuck no, doll." She put her hands up again. "I have no intention of killing anyone. I've only been with this group for about three months. I can't watch another group implode. I just can't. I will come and help you in any way I can. Please." She motioned for him to follow, and she walked to the refrigerator and opened it. "See this meat? I caught this deer. Me. I can hunt, I can kill walkers, and I can fight. I'll do whatever you want. Please." She looked up at him, her green eyes glistening. He studied her, saying nothing. He turned and walked back out to the group. She followed behind, helplessly, her eyes on the ground. "Well, this is your lucky day!" Negan called out. "Thanks to this little lady, I'm only going to take half your shit today. If I were you, I'd include her in your prayers tonight, because the rest of you are going to live to see tomorrow." He nodded his head once at his men, and they all fanned out, ready to take their supplies. Looking back at Melinda, he said, "You have five minutes to pack your shit. If you try anything, I will make you personally kill everyone in this compound. Understand?"

 She nodded her head and took off running towards her house. Whipping open the door, she bolted up the steps into her room, stuffing as much as she could into her backpack. Spying the pad and paper she kept by the bed, the grabbed it and started writing quickly. After ripping out the paper and scanning it over, she bit her lip, and crumpled up the paper. With a last look at her room, she grabbed a wad of tissues and flew down the steps and out the door, not bothering to close it. She did not know what Daryl was doing, but she didn't dare look at him, or she would crumble into dust.

Instead, she focused on Tara, who was looking at her in shock. She walked up to her and took her into her arms, hugging her tightly. A small sob came out, and she fought to get herself under control. Stepping back, she shoved the tissues into Tara's hand, and closing her fingers around them. "Don't cry," she warned her. She turned around and didn't look back, walking over the the nearest truck, standing there stupidly. The Saviors finished loading up the food and supplies, including her deer, and piled in without a word. She waited for someone to tell her what to do, but no one spoke. Negan motioned for her to climb in the front seat of his truck, and she walked around the cab, nearly tripping in the process. Her legs felt numb. Everything felt numb. _Never agai_ n, she thought. Negan stood at the door, looking at the Alexandrians, who were still in shock at the turn of events. Negan chuckled, and shouted, "See ya next month!" With that, he climbed in the truck, setting his bat between himself and Melinda. She cringed away from it, and Negan smiled. She wanted to vomit, but swallowed hard, fighting the urge. Without another word, he started up the truck and the caravan pulled out. She refused to look back, terrified of what she would see. If she had, she would have witnessed Daryl running after her, screaming her name as Rick and Abraham tackled him. It didn't seem to bother Negan.

 After a moment, he asked casually, "That your boyfriend, Peach?" "No," she said dully. Negan snorted.

"Bullshit. No man gets that upset unless it's a piece of ass driving away from him." She nearly snapped, her face going red. "He taught me to hunt, and we did runs together. That's it." Negan let it go, amused by the flushing of her face. "You're cute when you want to kill me," he said. Melinda didn't take the bait. She simply stared out the window, not seeing anything. Negan sighed, but kept driving. They drove on, and after an hour, he reached across her, brushing his arm across her chest, as he opened the glove box. Pulling out a black handkerchief, he handed it to her silently. She looked at him, and he pointed to her eyes. She wrapped it around her eyes, tying it behind her head. He waved his hand in front of her face, and said, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Without thinking, she said, "One," and held up her middle finger. He let out a booming laugh, causing her to jump so high that she almost hit the ceiling of the cab. "I think you and I are going to get along like fucking gangbusters, doll," he said. Realizing that she was not buckled in, she fumbled around for the seat belt, and sat back when she heard the click. "Seriously?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders. "That's not how I want to go out," she answered softly. He grunted, but did not respond. The rest of the ride was quiet, and Melinda tried to keep up with the turns he was making, but gave up, becoming hopelessly dizzy.

After several moments, he reached over and pulled off the blindfold, and she blinked rapidly in the fading light. When she say what lay in front of her, she gasped. "Fucking awesome, am I right?" he bragged. She was at a loss for words. "It's fucking something, all right," she managed. He spread out his hands, nearly clocking her in the nose, but not noticing. "Welcome to the Sanctuary."


	12. Chapter 12

  
Melinda stared out of the truck in awe. The Sanctuary was a factory, a large one at that. All along the wall surrounding the compound, were walkers, perhaps hundreds. Some were held by chains, and others were impaled on large pointed sticks. At the sight of the trucks rumbling up the road, they had stirred. They reached out, fruitlessly, searching for human flesh. She shuddered automatically at the sight. In a flash, the large gate opened, and Negan gunned the truck, flying through, followed by his men. The factory was large, five stories tall, and at least two football fields wide. Bars covered most windows, and on the top floor was a large balcony. Milling around the outside were several men with guns. A walkway had been constructed around the wall, with more patrolling.

Negan threw the truck into park and got out, going around to Melinda's side. He opened the door and she stepped out. As soon as her feet hit the ground, his hands were on her waist. She started to step back, but he held her firm, removing her weapons belt. He looked down at her. "You don't think I'm dumb enough to let you keep this, do you, doll?" She blinked at him, but didn't speak. Without a word, he turned and tossed it to Dwight and headed into the compound. The men and women outside dropped to their knees as he walked past them, though he never acknowledged them. After he passed, they quickly got up, resuming their tasks. Some were working on the sparse gardens that dotted the outside walls. Others were washing and drying clothes. Dwight cleared his throat, snapping her attention back to him. "Follow me," was all he said.

 Willing her feet to move, she hoisted up her backpack and did as he said. He passed the anonymous men and women, nodding at a few of them. They walked through the main door into the factory. The main area was large and open, filled with tables and chairs of all sizes. "This is the cafeteria area," Dwight pointed out. "Kitchen is to the right, and laundry is to the left, " he said, never breaking stride. There were perhaps twenty people, of various ages and races scattered at the tables and they all looked at her with open curiosity. She barely registered their glances, looking around with morbid fascination at her new home. Crossing the large area, Dwight started to climb a set of metal steps which led to the second floor. She followed behind him, and when they reached the top he turned right, and headed along the catwalk above the cafeteria. Perhaps fifty feet further, the catwalk segued into a regular hallway. On she followed as he turned up and down hallways until he came to another stairwell. He opened the door and started climbing, finally speaking again. "Second floor houses families, including children. Third floor is for the women, and the fourth is for the men."

 "What about the fifth floor?" Melinda inquired. "That's Negan's floor. He and his wives occupy it, and I highly suggest you don't step foot on it unless he specifically asks you to." Melinda stopped climbing. "Wives?" Dwight kept walking, so she had no choice but to follow. As they hit the last step, Dwight opened the stairwell door, making a right turn down the hallway. "There are stairwells on both sides of the floor, and a community bathroom with showers at the end of this hall." He stopped in front of the third door from the end of the hall. It was numbered 24.

He opened the door, and waved her in. She stepped in and assumed that this had been someone's office. There was a large window that had been boarded up. Inside the room, was a full size bed, a small dresser and a night table. "I need to see your backpack," Dwight said. Nodding silently, Melinda handed it to him. He set it on the bed and unzipped it, dumping it out. She assumed he was looking for anything dangerous. Satisfied, he handed it back to her and walked to the door. "Dinner has already been served, so you're out of luck for tonight. I'll send someone to fetch you in the morning. You'll be set up with a job and a few necessities. The rest you have to earn." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked down the hall. She shut the door softly. Walking to the bed, she sat down heavily, on top of her clothes. She bent over, head in hands, and sighed. She waited for the tears to come, but nothing happened. _I can do this_ , she thought. Standing back up, she picked up her clothes and folded them, placing them in the dresser. She set her toiletries in the nightstand. After kicking off her boots, she pulled down the drab grey blanket and slid into bed, not bothering to change her clothes. She doubled up the two flat pillows and lay on her side, staring at the wall. She didn't bother to turn off the light, knowing she would not get much sleep.

The next several days passed by in a blur. She had been "assigned" to a woman about her age, named Daisy. She was pleasant, with brown hair and big brown eyes. She reminded Melinda of Maggie, as both were kind and smart. Daisy ran the kitchen, and told her that she was assigned dish washing duties. If there was a hell, then Melinda was in it, she assumed. Of all the jobs in the factory, washing dishes was last on her list. She'd rather scrub toilets, though she wisely kept that info to herself.

Daisy had shown her around the Sanctuary, and introduced her to a few of the residents. She also filled Melinda in on the rules. "Everyone is expected to do their jobs, no exceptions. For doing so, you are awarded points, which you can spend on extra food, weapons if you go outside the compound, and luxuries, like books, clothes and non-essential toiletries. You know, makeup and things like that." Melinda nodded that she understood. "Negan runs this place like a dictator, so whatever he asks, you stop what you're doing and attend to his instructions immediately. Disobey him and there are consequences, anything from demotion to death." Melinda had a sudden thought. "Was Dwight punished for something?" They were in the cafeteria, sitting at a small table. A few people looked over at her when she spoke, and Daisy hurriedly shushed her. "I'll tell you later," she spoke in a low voice. "A friendly warning: watch what you say and who you say it to." Melinda looked worried. Had she said something wrong?  
Daisy patted her hand. "You don't have to worry about me, but others aren't quite so friendly. I'll point them out to you." They ate their breakfast quickly, so that Melinda could begin her first shift washing dishes. They carried their trays over to the right of the kitchen. There were metal tables set up and spots for everything. Trays, plates, bowls, cups and silverware all had their place, and once they were clean, they put back in the same spot for every meal.

Daisy led her into the heart of the kitchen. It was large, and had serving windows in which to work out of. While Daisy was setting up the afternoon meal, Melinda set to work washing dishes. Pulling them from the metal table, she washed until her fingers felt that the would fall off from being waterlogged. Completing that, she then began to dry them, so that they could be put back in the same spot. Now she dried until her arms wanted to fall off. _Who knew dishes could be so fucking exhausting?_ she thought. Melinda knew she could not stay in this job forever. She would have to think about how to get a promotion. She craved the outside, hunting and guarding. She tried to broach the subject with Daisy, who shot her a look. "After work," she said through clenched teeth. Melinda got the message and shut up.

She spent the rest of the day in the kitchen, helping the staff in between dishes. Daisy introduced her to the crew, and she tried to remember their names. There was an older woman named Josephine, who helped plan the meals, while a younger brother and sister, Alex and Sophie, did the food prep and cooking. They were twins, about seventeen years old. Despite the depressing conditions of the Sanctuary, they were cheerful and bubbly, and Melinda took an immediate liking to them. The had lost their parents a few months before, and had been found in an abandoned library by the Saviors. They chatted with Melinda while cooking, giving her tips about who to avoid and who to meet.

By the time dinner was completed and the kitchen was cleaned, Melinda's head was swimming, and her feet hurt. Turning off the lights, she followed Daisy out through the cafeteria to the front door. They walked out to a picnic table situated near the garden of tomatoes. There were still a few fruits left, even though fall had arrived. Daisy quickly picked them, setting a handful on the table. Reaching into her pocket, she flushed out a pack of cigarettes and a battered lighter. Without a word, she offered one to Melinda, who shook her head. Daryl's face flashed through her mind, but with some effort, she filed him away.

 "So, spill. What's the deal around here?"

Daisy took a drag off of her cigarette before speaking. "First thing you have to understand, is that Negan is never, ever to be questioned or challenged. He has a hair trigger temper, and he has rules that he expects to be followed. For example, he has a group of wives, five I think." She took another drag, tapping her nails on the table. "They are all women who have come into the Sanctuary. If he sees one he likes, he offers her a spot, even if she's with someone else. The live on his floor in a communal area, and they have no responsibilities. They are basically there at his beck and call, and they have freedoms the rest of us don't. But his number one rule is that they be devoted to him. They cannot even look at another man, or there's hell to pay." Melinda shivered, though the night was still warm.

"And what about Dwight?" she asked. Daisy gave her a sad smile. "Negan's 'first' wife is Sherry, who is actually Dwight's wife." Melinda bit on her lower lip, digesting this news. Daisy continued, "Now I wasn't here at that time, but from what I heard, Negan made the offer, and both Dwight and Sherry agreed that she should do it, so that she would be protected. But not long ago, Negan found out that they had slept together." Melinda interrupted. "Let me guess, he was punished?" She thought of his face, which was burned and scarred. Daisy nodded in confirmation. "Negan burned him in front of everyone, and made Sherry watch."

Melinda clenched her fists. "How can you guys stand this?" Daisy shrugged. "It's how the world works here." Melinda thought about telling her about Alexandria, but stopped herself. She barely knew Daisy, and wasn't sure she could trust her completely. Picking up on her hesitation, Daisy looked at her out of the side of her eyes. "So, how about you? What's your story?" Melinda feigned yawning. "I'm really tired. This has been a long day. I'm going to head to bed. Can we talk another time?" Daisy gave her a sympathetic smile. "Sure." Daisy stamped out her cigarette, and the two headed back in. Following Daisy up to the third floor, she stopped in her room to grab her toiletries. She headed to the bathroom and readied herself for bed. After she was done, she went back into her room and lay on the bed, over the covers, just thinking. She tried not to think of her friends, but failed. She was sure they hated her, but what choice did she have? She couldn't watch anyone else die. She just couldn't. Eventually, she crawled under the sheets and drifted off into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of walkers on chains and people with burned faces.

The next two days were much the same. She woke, went to the kitchen, working all day, and went outside in the evening to chat with Daisy. They never talked about Alexandria, instead focusing on the people at the Sanctuary. On the third day, after dinner, she headed to her room, surprised to find Dwight standing outside her door. "Hello," she said shyly, trying not to think about his burned face. Dwight skipped the greeting. "You're expected in Negan's room in one hour for dinner. There are clothes and supplies waiting for you on your bed." Melinda's mouth dropped. "Excuse me?" Dwight just looked her in the eye. "Be ready in an hour." Without another word, he stalked down the hall. Melinda braced herself and opened the door. On her bed was a black dress, a pair of strappy heels, and a bag with makeup and hair supplies. She lifted up the dress, holding it by the straps. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. The only words she could think of to describe it would be Greecian whore. She quickly grabbed the bag of supplies and stomped back off to the bathroom.

Exactly one hour later, she heard a knock on the door, and tried to calm her heart. She opened the door, facing Dwight. When he saw her, his eyes flew open and his jaw dropped. She fiddled with her hair, nervous. A slight flush began to creep up her chest onto her neck. "Is something wrong?" she asked quietly. Dwight's face also reddened. "No," he said. "Follow me." She tottered behind him, trying to steady herself in the heels. It had been a long time since she had worn any, and her hips swayed back and forth. He opened the door to the stairwell and pointed up. She began the two story climb, stopping at the landing while Dwight came up behind her. He opened the door to Negan's floor and stepped out. She looked around in open curiosity.

It was brightly lit, and the walls were painted a rich wine color. Rugs covered the floors, and all of the doors were mahogany. They walked down the hall, passing a room with a giant window. Peering in, Melinda was shocked to see several women lounging around in lingerie. It looked like some sort of bordello. Dwight kept his eyes straight ahead, and Melinda was struck with pity, wondering if Sherry was one of the women in there. None of them seemed to notice the two, so they continued on. Around the corner, they came to a set of double doors, again in a rich mahogany. She looked terrified, in spite of herself. After about ten seconds, Dwight knocked on the door, and muttered, "Good luck." He turned on his heel and went back the way he came.

Negan's voice called out from behind the door. "Come in."


	13. Chapter 13

Melinda took a deep breath, steadying herself, and opened the door. She took in the room, Negan's personal area. There was a large dining table, almost directly in front of the door. To to the left was an expensive looking desk, covered with books and papers. On the right of the room was a bookshelf, covered in leather bound books and small sculptures. Directly behind the dining table was yet another set of mahogany doors, and Melinda assumed they led to his private quarters.

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and willed herself to look at Negan. He was staring at her as if she was a big, fat juicy steak and he had not eaten in a week. The black dress, with its rope-like shoulder straps, flowed over her body like a waterfall. The material split between her breasts, and the rope belt cinched her waist, emphasizing her curvy hips and bottom. There was also a thigh high slit that exposed her leg every time she walked. Her curls were piled high on her head, with a few tendrils hanging down. She had gone easy on the makeup, just a light eye shadow, bit of liner, and thick black eyelashes. Her lips she colored a deep raspberry. She raised her eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. "Jesus fucking Christ, do you clean up nicely." He looked her up and down and licked his lower lip. "Thanks," she said, clasping her hands in front of her.

 He motioned her over to the table, and came around to pull her chair out for her. She sat as he pushed the chair towards the table, and she caught a whiff of his cologne. "Armani, right?" she asked, waving to his neck. He smiled at her, eyes twinkling. "The lady has a good nose." She looked at him directly. "That's the least of my talents."

He laughed. "I bet it is." She caught the double meaning, and blushed. "That's not what I meant." He smirked down at her but said nothing, instead walking over and taking the other chair at the head of the table. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Negan told whoever it was to come in, and Melinda was shocked to see Josephine from the kitchen, wheeling in a tray. On it were two bottles of wine, silverware, glasses and two plates. She was unable to meet the woman's eye. She felt guilty, even though this dinner was not her idea. But Josephine said nothing, merely setting a plate in front of each of them, along with silverware and a wine glass. She set the two wine bottles in front of Negan, both of which were already opened. She nodded to him and hurried to the door, closing it softly behind her. Melinda looked down at her plate, surprised to see one of her deer steaks on the plate along with a hearty helping of vegetables. She would bet her life that they were from the boxes that they received from the Hilltop. She looked up to see Negan watching her, head cocked to the side. Feeling she was being tested, she pasted a smile on her face.

 "Thank you, Negan. This looks wonderful." He stood, grabbing a bottle of wine, and after pouring some into his glass, approached her. She noticed, despite herself, that he had broad shoulders and trim hips. He was wearing worn black jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his chest. Of course, he noticed her staring and a huge grin formed on his lips. Pouring her some wine, he returned to his seat, picking up his fork. She did the same, and both took a bite of the meat. She was not a fan of deer meat, but chewed it slowly and swallowed. He cleared his throat. "I suppose I should thank you for this meal as well. You did provide all the necessary ingredients for it." She smiled serenely, not taking the bait. "My pleasure. Whatever I can do to help." His smile faltered, and he looked at her over her wine glass. Her first instinct was to drop her eyes, but she resisted. Everything about this dinner was going to be a test, and she was determined to pass.

After a fraught moment, the smile returned, and they continued eating in silence. "So, Melinda. Tell me about yourself. Did you have a ball and chain before the world shat itself? Rugrats running around?" Melinda shook her head. "Divorced. No kids." Negan chuckled. "Don't tell me you're barren? You're too young." Melinda sat back as if she had been slapped. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. "As a matter of fact, I am. Barren, as you so nicely put it. Hence the divorce." Negan had the grace to look embarrassed, and he shifted in his seat. "Look, I'm sorry. I joke around a lot. I didn't mean anything by it." She nodded stiffly, and took a long drink of her wine.

 He peppered her with more questions about her past, and as she drained the wine from her glass, the answers came more loosely. To his credit, Negan seemed interested in her answers, and let her ramble about her life before. He refilled her glass twice, and she continued to eat her meal. When they finished, she pushed her plate away and looked at him expectantly.

Picking up his glass, he came over and sat in the chair next to her. She could smell his cologne again, and the sweet scent of wine on his breath. He drummed his fingers on the table. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. He spoke again. "So what is it that you want, Melinda?" "What do you mean?" she asked. He looked at her, before taking another sip of the wine. "Why are you here?"

She giggled, the wine making her head spin. "In your room? You invited me. Or did you mean philosophically?" His hazel eyes hardened, and the took her glass and set it on the table. Looking her in the eyes, he spoke again. "Why did you come here? What game are you playing? I suggest you don't lie to me. That's a rule, and I don't like it when people break my rules." She stared back, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I told you. I can't watch another group implode. I have been through it before, and I can't do it again. I have been attacked, nearly raped, had to put down people I cared about. I just want to survive, and I'm willing to do anything I can to make sure that I do." She sat back, waiting for his response. He was quiet, just looking at her. Her skin prickled as he stared at her, and she felt her chest and neck flush. He noticed, and he grinned yet again. "I seem to bring out a certain response in you, don't I?" She looked at her hands. "It's the wine," she muttered. "Mmm-hmm, I'm fucking sure it is." She fanned her face with her hand. "Do you mind if I stand?" she asked him. He waved his hand out, gesturing to her.

 She stood and walked over to his bookcase, hips swaying as she walked. She looked over the titles, surprised at some of them. The Canterbury Tales, The Collected Works of William Shakespeare, The Odyssey. All were bound in rich red leather. She felt him walk up behind her, nearly pressing into her back. He reached around her to grab a book, brushing against her shoulder, causing goosebumps along her arms. "I could never get through the Odyssey," he murmured. "I always mean to." She turned to him, eyes wide. He was close to her, and she could smell the wine. She gently stepped aside, walking back over to the table, taking a sip of her own glass. Again he walked up behind her, this time pressing himself against her, putting his hands on her arms, just above her elbows.

"I have a proposition for you," he began. She held her breath, heart pounding. "I'd like you to become one of my wives." She stiffened, but did not turn around. "And what does becoming one of your wives entail?" she questioned. He leaned in, his head alongside hers, breath warming her neck. She closed her eyes. "You become mine, in every way. I fuck you when I want, where I want. You are devoted to me. In return, I treat you like a queen. You will never want for anything, and you will never be in danger." He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent.

She spoke softly. "And if I respectfully decline, what would happen to me?" He laughed and stepped back, breaking his hold on her. "Nothing. I don't want anyone that doesn't want to be with me, doll. I don't rape women, and I don't allow women to be raped. You could continue what you're doing, clawing and scraping to survive, like the rest of this fucking crew." She turned to face him. This time, it was her turn to lean into him, lips nearly touching. "Then I would like to respectfully decline," she whispered, and Negan shuddered slightly. Impulsively, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek and stepped back. "Thank you for dinner." He nodded, his own breathing labored.

She turned and walked to the door without a backward glance. Less than a minute after she stepped into her room, there was a knock on the door. She opened it to find Negan there, leaning against the doorjamb. He walked in and closed the door behind him. "I'd like my dress back," he said, his eyes hard. Without breaking eye contact, she unzipped it, sliding it off her shoulders and down her waist. She slipped it down and stepped out of it, clad in only a lace bra and panties that he had provided her. She held the dress on her fingertips out to him. His eyes roamed over her body continuously, and she wondered if he would make a move. Her complacency seemed to aggravate him more. She sensed that he wanted this to go differently, wanting a different reaction from her. She did not give it to him. Instead he snatched the dress back, and opened the door behind him, stepping backwards out into the hall, with labored breathing and his eyes blazing. "Goodnight," she purred, and as he watched her close the door, she smiled at the wall. Click.


	14. Chapter 14

Over the next two weeks, the cycle repeated itself. Every third day, Negan would summon her for dinner with him. She never interacted with him between those times. He would take his men out, returning with supplies, many times with blood spattered all over, dripping from Lucille. Her stomach turned, but when he passed by, he never made eye contact. It chapped her ass having to kneel down as he passed, but she did it. When she dined with him, it was always in a new dress, hair and makeup done. She resented it, but did not complain. Their conversations were superficial, and she dared not ask him about his work, afraid he would tell her horror stories about Alexandria.

Before leaving, he would offer her a spot as his latest wife, and she would politely decline. Instead, she threw herself into her job in the kitchen. Unbeknownst to her, Negan had people watching her, reporting back to him. He would occasionally monitor her himself, standing in the shadows above the cafeteria. He watched her as she made her way through the crowd of people, stopping to talk to them, a hand on an arm, a soft hug here and there. He watched her talking to Dwight, smiling and laughing.

After their fourth dinner, she stood up to leave, stretching and yawning, her green dress lifting up to the tops of her thighs. "Thank you, Negan," she murmured softly, as she always did before she left. He stood and approached her, and she couldn't help but notice the bulge in his pants. Her cheeks turned pink, but she remained silent. Coming to rest in front of her, he looked down with a smile. She looked back at him expectantly, waiting for his usual proposal. But he instead said, "You're going on a run tomorrow with Dwight." Her eyes brightened and a genuine smile broke out on her face. "Really?" she breathed. Negan nodded, "He's taking you hunting. And I expect a big fucking deer for dinner when you get back." Melinda couldn't have been more happy if he had told her she won a million dollars. The thought of getting out of this factory into the peace of the woods thrilled her. It felt like years since she was out. The memory nearly knocked the wind out of her, thinking of Daryl. He sensed a change in her and looked at her. She quickly composed herself before answering. "I hope I don't let you down."

Before she could do something stupid like cry, she quickly kissed his cheek, almost grazing his lips. Backing up, she fled without a further word, nearly running to the steps. She hurried to her room, slamming the door behind her. Bending over, she placed her hands on her knees, taking deep breaths. After a moment, she gained control of herself and sat on the bed to take off the ridiculous heels Negan made her wear. When she had them on, they were almost eye to eye.

There was a soft knock on the door almost as soon as she was done changing her clothes. She opened it, half expecting it to be Negan, but it was Daisy. She held up her cigarettes with out a word, and Melinda smiled at her, following her down through the compound and out the doors to the picnic table they usually sat at in the evenings. The sky was clear, with a full moon. There were only a few people milling around, and they had most of the yard to themselves. It would be peaceful if there weren't men walking back and forth above them with machine guns. Melinda wondered how Eugene was, and if anyone was out getting him the metals he needed to continue making bullets.

Daisy tapped a cigarette and lit it, exhaling a long plume of smoke. Melinda held out her hand, and Daisy handed her the pack. Melinda had always been a social smoker, but stopped when she fled Pittsburgh. She thought about all the running she had done in the chaos, and the thought of coughing and hacking had prevented her from sneaking one or two. But here, all she did was work in the kitchen, so it felt like a moot point. She had started having a couple when she and Daisy came out in the evenings, and it calmed her. "So what's up, kitten?" Daisy asked her. Melinda rolled her eyes.

"You know I'm older than you, right?" Daisy laughed and blew a bit of smoke at her. Melinda waved it away, chuckling. Melinda ran her nails across the grooves in the wooden table. "I'm going out hunting tomorrow." Daisy's eyes got wide and she raised her hand for a high five. "How the hell did you manage that?" Melinda shrugged. "I didn't. Negan told me at dinner that I was going." Daisy's face fell. She looked like she wanted to ask something but hesitated.

Melinda sighed. "Spit it out, Daisy." Daisy leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "What is the deal? Why does he make you come to his room every couple of days? Are you guys having an affair?" Melinda took a puff of her smoke before answering. "No. We are not having an affair. I have no interest in being part of some perverted harem fantasy. We talk. That's it. I still don't think he fully trusts me, but I'm glad he's giving me a chance to contribute in a different way." Daisy contemplated that for a minute. She stared at Melinda shyly. "What?" Melinda questioned. Daisy looked up at the sky.

"I don't know if this has anything to do with you," she said, "but the rumors around town are that after your dinners with Negan, he sleeps with at least two of his wives, sometimes three." Her face turned pink, and Melinda threw back her head and laughed. Seeing her friends face fall, she quickly patted her hand. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm really not." But the thought of her making Negan sexually frustrated made her laugh out loud again. "Men always want what they can't have, don't they?" Daisy let out a small laugh, relieved that her friend wasn't offended. But in the silence, she spoke again. "I worry about you, Melinda. Negan is not a man to be taken lightly. When he wants something, he gets it, by any means necessary." Melinda quickly sobered up. "Please don't worry, Daisy. I'm a big girl, and I hold no illusions about what he wants." Daisy let the conversation drop.

After a few moments, they put out their cigarettes and strolled back into the Sanctuary. Reaching the third floor, she gave Daisy a quick hug and returned to her room. As she stepped in she noticed a bag sitting on her bed. Reaching for it carefully, she opened it to find her weapons belt. She held it up, smiling to herself. _Yes_ , she thought. _Things are finally starting to work_.

 Eighteen hours later, she and Dwight pulled up to gates. Melinda was tired, but happy. They were successful, having bagged two doe. She had even managed to kill a rabbit, all with Dwight's bow. As the gates swung open, she was surprised to see Negan waiting for them. She and Dwight looked at each other, but neither spoke. Dwight pulled in and parked, switching off the ignition. As he was stepping out, Negan approached, punching Dwight in the nose, knocking him to the ground. "What the FUCK took you so long?" he raged. Melinda took a step back, having never seen him so angry. Dwight was on the ground, holding his nose, blood leaking through his fingers. "I only took her out two hours away. We tracked all day, like you said we could." Negan spun and rounded on Melinda, who shrank back. He grabbed her arm, propelling her through the crowd of men, she looking back over her shoulder at Dwight, who shook his head at her. On he pulled her, through the cafeteria, up the steps and into the stairwell. He continued dragging her, up the the third floor, whipping open her door and pushing her to the bed. She landed on her ass, looking at him with wide eyes. She didn't dare to breathe, let alone speak. He leaned over her, causing her neck to crane up. "Did you fuck him?" he bellowed. "What?" she asked, not sure she was hearing correctly. "You heard me," he said, slightly calmer. "Did. You. Fuck. Him?" Melinda lost it. She knew it was dangerous, knew she shouldn't but her temper was off the rails.

 She stood up abruptly, causing him to back off somewhat. Her eyes were blazing and her face was red. "I've spent the last twelve hours walking my fucking ass off, sweating my fucking ass off, tracking my fucking ass off to find food for these fucking people, and all you can fucking ask is if I've fucked Dwight??" She was nose to nose with him, not backing down. "And if I want to fuck Dwight, I don't see how it's any of your business. If you want to bash my fucking head in, do it!" She was breathing in and out rapidly, "I don't fucking care! But you will NOT try to scare me. You will NEVER scare me again!" She sat down heavily, all energy gone, placing her head in her hands. "Did you fuck him?" he asked again. Too tired to fight, she shook her head. "No. I have no interest in fucking Dwight."

He grabbed her hands and pulled her up. Before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her neck, her shoulders, hands on her breasts. He licked at her neck, tasting the salt from her sweat. She said nothing, did nothing but place her hands gently on his shoulders. Without stopping, he pulled her arms around his neck and nibbled on her ear. She did not resist, letting him explore her body, his hands roaming from her breasts to her hips, along her waist and to her backside. Over and over he kissed her, and her mind shut off. She pulled him onto her as she fell back on the bed. His hands frantically grasped at her shirt, lifting it up to her neck. He leaned down and kissed her breasts, moving her bra aside, and she ran her nails down the back of his neck, sending him into a frenzy. She forced herself not to think of Daryl as he unbuttoned her jeans, roughly pulling them down. His fingers found their way into her panties, and she squirmed. He did not stop, licking her stomach. Pausing for a moment, he pulled her pants and panties all the way off.

 Reaching under her, he undid her bra and pulled her shirt over her head. She had her eyes closed the entire time. She felt his fingers graze her cheek, and she opened her eyes. He was looking down on her, eyes taking in her naked form. "Say you're mine," he said, his voice thick with arousal. "Say your body is mine." She looked him in the eye, her voice not wavering. "I'm yours, Negan. My body is yours." Without taking his eyes off hers, he pulled his own shirt off, and stood up to remove the rest of his clothes. She watched him quietly.

"Say you want me." She did as she was told. "I want you, Negan." He crawled onto her, making his way slowly to her head, kissing her legs, her thighs, her stomach, breasts and neck. She shuddered, and felt him penetrate her. He was large, and she let out a small cry. He held her face in his hand, leaning on his other elbow. "Look at me." He started moving in and out, slowly. Her legs wrapped around him, and her hips started to move. Over and over he plunged, his stubble rubbing against her cheek.

Suddenly, she pushed him over onto his back, switching positions. As she settled herself over him, she placed both hands on his chest. She lowered herself slowly, taking her time, eyes on his all the while. Rolling her hips, she searched for the sweet spot, finding it after a few strokes. Over and over she bucked, eyes closing and head tilted up. Her fingers found his mouth, and he began sucking on them. Faster and faster she pushed, until his hands began to dig into her hips. Suddenly he came inside her, moaning in pleasure. She continued moving up and down, determined to find her own release. She gasped, fingers digging into his chest. Melinda gently eased herself off of him, laying face down on her bed. His hand lazily ran up and down her back, and she shifted away from him. Without looking at him, she muttered, "That tickles," and he stopped, instead cupping one of her cheeks in his hand, kneading it over and over.

She finally raised herself up on her arms and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Her hair was wild and loose and her cheeks were red from where his stubble had rubbed against her. With a sigh, he sat up, reaching for his clothes. Without a word, he dressed himself and leaned over and kissed her shoulder. "Do me a favor, doll, and don't ever yell at me again." With that he strolled to her door, shutting it behind him. She put her head into the pillow and sobbed.


	15. Chapter 15

Melinda woke the next morning with an ache in her heart that caused her physical pain. She was glad she didn't have a mirror in her room, as she couldn't stomach the thought of facing herself. She was tempted to wallow in her room, but knew that would do her no favors. She mumbled softly to herself. "Get up, stupid. You chose this, you deal with it." For some reason, this made her feel slightly better.

Still nude, she rose and stretched, feeling a pull in her thighs. Ignoring it, she threw on some clothes, and headed off to shower. She was needed in the kitchen shortly, and she was determined not to be late. She could be morose another time. The water was hot, and it felt amazing on her skin. She cleaned herself as quickly as possible. She was still wet when she put on her clean clothes, and her red shirt clung to her skin. She brushed her hair, pulling it up into a bun, and brushed her teeth. Feeling more human, she threw her things on her bed and headed down to the main level.

 She smiled at men and women she passed, stopping to chat with one of the newer recruits, Jamie. He had come in a few days prior, and was being groomed to join Negan and his men. About twenty-six, he was a former Army private who had been stationed at Fort Lee. She had heard that he was wicked with a gun, almost never missing a target. Jamie gave her a smile, and she patted him on the arm. "How are you settling in?" she asked politely. Jamie's smile faltered slightly. "It's ok. I'm heading out today on my first collection." She nodded sympathetically. "You'l do great, I'm sure of it. Just do what you're told and you'll be fine." He gave her a tentative smile in return, but he looked nervous. He had light brown skin, brown eyes, and his hair was short, in a buzz cut. Despite being in his mid-twenties, he could pass for a teenager, and he brought out her protective instincts. After a few more words of encouragement, she continued on.

Reaching the kitchen, she waved at the crew and put on her apron. Breakfast was almost done being served and the dishes were piling up. Figuring she could grab something when she was done, she set to work, humming and singing absently. About halfway through her pile, Sophie tapped her on the shoulder, a small smile on her face. "What's up, sweetie?" Melinda asked. Sophie spoke, looking at her feet. "You have a really pretty voice," she said, barely above a whisper. "Can you sing louder?" Melinda gave her a tender look, kissing her on the top of her head. "I don't think I have a pretty voice, but if it makes you happy, I will." Sophie's face lit up, and she spoke a little louder this time. "Well, I like it, and it's been a long time since I've heard any music. I'm trying to save up my points for a CD player and some music, but it's going to take me a while." Melinda nodded, a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard and turned back to the sink as Sophie walked back to finish the clean up. She thought a moment, then started singing 'Across the Universe' by the Beatles. She remembered her mother singing it to her when she was a child. Whenever Melinda was sick, she would crawl into her lap seeking the comfort that only one's mom could provide. _Oh, mom_ , she thought. _I wish you were here right now_. She would love nothing more that to crawl into her lap again, to have her stroke her hair and rock her to sleep, to chase away the monsters.

After she finished, she was shaken by the sound of applause. Looking up, she saw that everyone in the kitchen had stopped to listen to her, along with some of the people that had been relaxing in the cafeteria. She flushed redder than she ever thought possible, and quickly backed away to the rear of the kitchen. Before her face could get back to normal, Dwight appeared in front of her. He had two large black eyes, and his nose was swollen from where Negan had punched him the day before. Melinda felt a flash of irritation, remembering the scene that Negan had caused, but the look on Dwight's face stopped her from speaking. She felt like she should apologize to him, but how does one make amends for that? _Sorry your leader socked you because he thought we were out screwing in the woods?_ A bubble of laughter crawled up her throat, but she quickly swallowed it back down. The rest of the kitchen staff had the grace to scatter when he approached, so they stood in front of each other. She looked at him quizzically. Dwight cleared his throat, and spoke. "We're going to the Hilltop today for our tribute. Negan wants you to come." Melinda's heart began to race, and she shook her head in spite of herself. This was another test, she was sure of it. He probably wanted to see how she reacted, watching him bully the terrified residents of the Hilltop. Dwight looked irritated, and snapped at her. "We don't have time for this. Go up and get your stuff. He's waiting." Melinda inched around him, not looking him in the eye. She felt eyes on her as she left the kitchen and walked through the cafeteria, but she kept her head down, eyes on the floor in front of her.

When she reached the stairwell, she jogged up the metal steps, her boots pounding out an echo. Opening up her door, she stopped dead in her tracks, hopelessly confused. Turning to look at her door to make sure she had the right room, she stepped back in. Gone was her drab grey blanket and flat pillows. In its place was a thick indigo comforter, with silky tan sheets. Pictures had been hung on the wall, and a new lamp sat on her nightstand. A small oriental rug was now laying beside her bed, and books and CDs were placed on her dresser next to a player. "What the fuck?" she stammered. She jumped as a voice came from behind her.

"Looks much better, don't you think?"

Negan was leaning against her door, a wide grin on his face. Melinda stared at him open mouthed. "Where did all this come from? I don't have enough points for this." Her hands and voice shook. "I don't even know how many points I have, actually." He walked up to her, closing the door behind him. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers down her neck. "There's benefits to being one of my women, Peach." She stepped back, trying to clear her head. She had never felt more like a whore in her life. Trying to keep her voice steady and calm, she sat on the edge of her bed.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not one of your women. I didn't ask for anything." Negan turned around, walking over to the dresser, picking up one of the books and thumbing through it. "You should be a little more appreciative when someone gives you gifts." The words were soft, but the tone was dangerous. Standing, she walked up behind him and laid her hand gently on his arm, waiting for him to turn around. He did, and she looked at him, his hazel eyes on hers. "I understand that you are trying to do something nice, but this feels to me like payment for services rendered. I did not sleep with you for security or for protection. I don't care about material things," she said. "I never have and I never will." He searched her face. "What do you care about?" She dropped her hand as she replied. "I care about people." He brushed past her, and put his hand on the door. "Well, I'm not coming into this place when it looks like a shithole. You're just going to have to deal with it." Opening the door, he started down the hall. "Let's go." Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her belt off the dresser and followed him.

As they pulled up to the Hilltop, her nerves began to fray. She did not know how the residents would react to her being with the Saviors, and she dreaded it. But she sat up straight, looking ahead without really seeing anything. Negan had relegated her to the vehicle behind his, and she was relieved. She did not want to ride with him after rejecting his gifts. She knew she had pissed him off, but she felt violated. Riding in the back of Dwight's truck, she was sandwiched between Jamie, and Tom, who was third in command behind Dwight. He was as mean as a snake, and she figured that he enjoyed the destruction and carnage as much as Negan. He looked over at her, almost as if he heard her thoughts, and leered at her, brushing his arm against the side of her breast. She squirmed, moving closer to Jamie, who was looking around at the looming mansion with awe. She patted his leg, and gave him a small smile before turning to watch the gate open.

As they parked, Tom stepped out, nearly closing the door on Melinda. She gave him a sarcastic smile. _Keep it up, asshole_ , she thought, breezing past him. As much as she didn't want to, she sidled up behind Negan, trying to keep herself from being noticed. It did not work. Jesus walked quickly up to the Saviors, hands out in a sign of submission. He nearly stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of her, but wisely kept walking. Melinda gave him a glum smile, but he did not return it, instead focusing on Negan. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel it in her head. Thump, thump, thump. She was sure everyone around her could feel it.

"Negan," said Jesus, greeting him. Negan looked down his nose at the smaller man. "Do you have our shit?" Negan asked, his trademark smirk on his face. "I don't want to be in this hovel any longer than necessary." Jesus backed up, motioning to the right. Crates and boxes were stacked together, about four feet high and placed in a large circle, ready to be retrieved. Negan snapped his fingers, and the Saviors descended on the pile like locusts, grabbing boxes to load in the trucks. Melinda stepped to follow them, but Negan grabbed her arm. "The fuck are you doing?" he asked. She looked at him, shrugging her shoulders. "Helping," she replied. Jesus looked on, just watching. "You don't need to fucking help. Just hang out." She nodded her head. "Do you mind if I go over and look at their garden? I have a few questions about it."

Negan raised his eyebrows and answered. "Knock yourself out doll. In fact, grab anything you want." He pointed at Jesus, motioning for him to follow her. Melinda made her way over to the garden by the wall, with Jesus behind her. Slowly she walked through the rows, looking carefully at each one. Negan watched her as she went through, picking up a vegetable here and there, with Jesus just behind her. She turned and said something, pointing at one of the plants. They spoke for a few moments, looking here and there, and he pulled out a few tomatoes, handing them to her. She gave him a smile, and he watched her mouth a 'thank you' before heading back. She had some fall tomatoes, a squash, and a nice fat watermelon. With a smile on her face, she opened the door and set them in Dwight's truck. She caught Negan watching her, and her face began to turn pink. He grinned and turned to Jesus. Speaking in a low voice, he said, "Make sure her shaggy haired friend knows how happy she is." Jesus did not speak, simply nodding. His face was stony.

With that, Negan turned on his heel, walking over to his truck. When the last of the boxes were loaded, he looked again at Jesus, lifting his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. Jesus looked back solemnly. Negan motioned for Melinda to ride with him, so she grabbed her food out of Dwight's truck, and climbed in beside him, buckling her seat belt. She held her tomatoes in her lap, placing the watermelon and squash on the seat beside her. Negan turned on the truck, and backed up, turning himself around. She looked out the window behind her, but did not see Jesus. She did spy Gregory, looking out the window, but she could not see the expression on his face. She turned back around, glancing at Negan.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked quietly. He stared ahead, eyes on the road. "No," he said, finally. She turned her own head, looking out the window at the trees. "Sing for me," he said, startling her. "I'm sorry?" she said, stalling. He still did not look at her, staring at the road. "I heard you singing this morning. Sing for me." She wasn't sure how to respond. "Um, what did you want me to sing?" His hands gripped the wheel, but he still didn't look over at her. "The same song you did this morning." She didn't want to, but she was afraid to make him angry. So she closed her eyes, singing softly at first, finding her voice growing as she continued. When she finished, she had tears in her eyes. Without prompting, she spoke. "My mother used to sing it to me." Wiping her eyes, she smiled sadly. They did not speak the rest of the ride back.

When they arrived, she excused herself, and took her fruits and vegetables to the kitchen, depositing them on the counter for Daisy. They were just getting ready to start dinner, and she was starving. She quickly ate a few mouthfuls of food before heading to the sink, grabbing pots and pans that were ready to be washed on the way. Daisy came up beside her, whispering in her ear. "Are you okay?" Melinda smiled at her. "I'm fine." Daisy stepped back, unsure, but Melinda forced herself to smile. "We'll talk tomorrow, I promise." Concentrating on her dishes, she washed and dried like her life depended on it. When everything was clean and put back in its proper place, she dried her hands and said goodnight to the kitchen crew. All she wanted to do was go back to her room and lay down.

When she opened her door, she was both surprised and not to see Negan lounging on her bed. Hands on her hips, she gave him a crooked smile and he grinned back, holding his hand out to her. Flashing devilish look, he grabbed her and pulled her down, rolling on top of her. "It's time for you to sing a different tune," he said, placing his lips on her neck.


	16. Chapter 16

Melinda woke the next morning, surprised to see Negan asleep in the bed. She had figured he would slip out after she fell asleep, since Daisy had told her that he never spent the night with his wives. Apparently they were never even allowed into his bedroom. Deciding not to read too much into it, she rose quietly, slipping on clean panties and a bra. As she opened her drawer for jeans and a shirt, his voice echoed behind her, scratchy with sleep. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked. Shrugging into her shirt, she turned to face him, giving him a smile. "It's almost time for breakfast, and I don't want to get behind on the dishes."

After sliding on her jeans, she walked over to where he was lying, and sat beside him, putting on her socks. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I assume you have a Sanctuary to run?" He pulled her down onto his chest, pressing her head onto his shoulder. "You don't need to be doing fucking dishes, doll. I told you I'd take care of you." She ran her nails up and down his arm, keeping her tone light. "I actually like it," she admitted. "Bullshit, Peach. No one likes doing dishes." She conceded, amending her words. "Okay, I don't 'like' it. But I enjoy the kitchen crew. There are some really great people here." His hand tightened slightly, and she stopped scratching his arm. Removing his arm, she sat up, and he swung his legs around her, righting himself.

He stood up, reaching for his pants, which were crumpled on her floor. "These people are sheep. Stupid and panicky. You always have to herd them where you want them to go, because they're too fucking moronic to see the danger for themselves." He quickly put on his own shirt, sitting back down next to her. She grasped his arm, running her nails up and down it, and said softly, "Maybe you should give them a little more credit." Negan snorted derisively. "You don't know these people, Melinda. I do. They don't know what's good for them. They couldn't make it out there in the new world, so I'm stuck taking care of them. If I don't make the hard decisions, people die." Melinda continued to gently stroke his arm. "You gave me a chance, Negan. You had no use for me the day we met, yet here I am, able to provide food for you. I can help on supply runs, and I can kill walkers. Maybe some of the others can do it, too." With that, she kissed him on the cheek and left the room.

Shortly after lunch, as she was cleaning up, Negan, Tom, Dwight, and a few men whose names she didn't remember came into the cafeteria, and Negan stepped up onto the largest table in the center of the area. Everyone quickly dropped to their knees. Negan waved them up, and looked around, seemingly making eye contact with every man and woman in the room. There was a nervous silence, and he motioned to Melinda to come out. Clasping her hands, she stepped out, just into the seating area. In a booming voice, Negan spoke, looking directly at her. "So here's the deal. Some of you think that you know more than I do about what this community needs. And now's your chance to prove it."

Gesturing to the door, he smirked, and Melinda wanted to punch him. She pictured walking up to him, and punching him square in the mouth, splitting his lip and knocking out teeth. She smiled back, sweetly. "If you have the balls to go out at find supplies, I want you to see that lovely lady over there," he said, moving his hand to point to her. "You can head out tomorrow. If you fail, don't bother coming back." He jumped down in one swift move and walked out the door. Dwight followed behind him with his head down, while Tom and the other three men glared at her. Melinda was shaking with rage, but did not move. Every head in the room swiveled from the door to her face, waiting for a cue on what to do. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she spoke up in her loudest voice. "You heard the man, if you have any supply run experience and you want to join me, come forward."

All in all, three people volunteered. A spunky young woman with short spiked hair named Katie was the first to walk up. She had been at the Sanctuary for a while, and was eager to go. She told Melinda that she had been on her own since almost the beginning, and had been placed on laundry duty. Unable to earn enough points to buy her way up the ladder, she was anxious to make a good impression.

Two brothers, named John and Josh, were next up. They assured her that they were up to the task. They were both in their forties, and had owned a small golf course just outside of Alexandria. They had extensive knowledge of the area, and offered to help her map out a strategy. Katie practically ran to the armory, where they kept a supply of maps, and the four of them sat at the table that Negan had stood on, studying it intently. After about an hour, they had agreed on a tentative plan, and she thanked them before folding up the map and putting it in her back pocket. The four of them went their separate ways, with Melinda returning to the kitchen to prepare for dinner.

When she walked in, Daisy wrapped her in a hug. "I'm worried about you, Melinda. Why is he doing this to you?" Melinda hugged her back tightly. "I told you, Daisy, I'm a big girl. I can handle this." They released her and Melinda gave her a wink. Alex and Sophie were watching the two of them, so Melinda gave them a reassuring smile and a thumbs up. To prove she was ok, she even sang for Sophie, some silly Britney Spears song about a womanizer. _Bring it on, Negan_ , she thought. _Bring it on_. After the dinner rush was done, the kitchen crew finished their jobs, and retreated for the night, except for Daisy and Melinda, who went out to smoke a cigarette.

Walking silently to their picnic table, they sat in contemplation for a while. After taking a long drag, Melinda looked at Daisy for a long moment. Daisy looked back, uncertainly. "Do you trust me, Daisy?" she asked. Daisy nodded, "You know I do." She placed her hand on Melinda's. "And I can trust you, right?" she questioned. Daisy nodded vehemently. "You're my first real friend in here, Melinda. I would never hurt you." Melinda was still for a moment, watching the men make their rounds along the wall.

Taking a deep breath, she began to tell Daisy about herself, from fleeing her home to finding her way to Alexandria. She never stopped, just filling in all the blanks about how she ended up there, to the friendships she made. She explained how she ended up at the Sanctuary as well. The only thing she did not disclose was her relationship with Daryl. She kept that locked in her heart, afraid if she spoke of him, that she would break into a million pieces. When she finished, she lit up another cigarette, while Daisy digested all the information she was given. After a thoughtful silence, she finally spoke. "I don't understand, though, Melinda. Why you would leave a place like that to come to a place like this." Melinda looked at her friend sadly. "I thought that if I made a sacrifice, that it would keep my friends safe. I hoped that by de-escalating the situation, that there would be a peace, and no one else would have to die." Unsure of what to say, Daisy took a drag of her own. "I hope that's what happens, kitten." Melinda smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "So do I."

They walked back inside and headed upstairs. As they parted, Daisy wished her good luck, and told her to stop in the kitchen for some food to take on the trip. Hugging her again, Melinda returned to her room. She was relieved to find it empty, having no desire to see Negan. Readying herself for bed, she crawled in and turned off the lamp, staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get as much rest as possible. She eventually drifted off, dreaming of her mother, a smile on her face.

The next morning, she sat at the same large table, waiting on her traveling partners. Katie arrived first, nearly vibrating with excitement. John and Josh arrived a short time after, and she grabbed their food for the trip. The kitchen crew wished her a hearty good luck, and they foursome headed out. There was a truck waiting for them, with the keys already in the ignition. She allowed Josh to drive, since he knew the area so well, and she climbed in the passenger seat to copilot. It took about three hours, but they finally arrived at their destination, a town named Springfield. They first checked the small restaurants, and found two that weren't heavily populated with walkers. They all grabbed their weapons, which had been checked out of the armory, and set off, two by two. They dispatched the stragglers easily, and Melinda felt her energy growing. It felt so good to be out, and she smiled grimly as she stabbed a rotted roamer that had latched onto her arm. Piercing it in the head, she turned and stabbed one in the back of the head that was dragging itself towards Katie.

Going from store to store, they located two guns, several industrial sized cans of vegetables, and two large boxes of commercial toilet paper. After packing up their loot, they moved on, turning onto a tree lined street with a row of boxy houses. Splitting up to one man and one woman, the pairs each took a side of the street, moving from house to house. Over and over they searched, killing every walker they saw and covering as much ground as they could, always returning with something of use. The longer they went, the more confident she became, and she longed to see the look on Negan's face when she returned.

Once the bed of the truck was packed as tightly as it could be, they all fist bumped and climbed into the vehicle, exhausted but happy. Melinda turned in her seat, facing Josh and Katie. "You guys did an amazing job, and no matter what happens, I couldn't be happier that you stepped up. This was successful beyond my wildest dreams." Katie was beaming and Josh made an aw, shucks face at her. Laughing, she turned around and punched John on the shoulder. "You're the best." The ride back seemed to take no time at all, as they excitedly chattered about the supplies they had found. And as they pulled up, Melinda felt a sense of accomplishment that no one could undo. Waving to the guards, they opened the gate, and they swung into the exact same spot they left. Standing there almost as if he knew they would be there at that exact moment, was Dwight. He seemed genuinely dumbstruck at how well they had fared. Walking past him, she murmured, "People always seem to underestimate me." She did not wait for a response, and a small path cleared for the four as they walked to the entrance.

Once they entered, she shook hands with the three, thanking them profusely for their help. Melinda took the best shower of her life, and walked slowly to her room. No sooner that she had dressed for bed, there was a pounding on her door. Assuming it was Negan, opened the door to find Tom standing there instead, with a glare on his face. "The BOSS wants to see you," he said with utter contempt. She rolled her eyes, not even caring what Tom thought, and pushed ahead of him to take the stairwell to Negan's floor.

Passing the bordello, she saw several women staring at her, some with loathing, and a couple with respect. She still wasn't sure which one was Sherry, but she hoped it was one of the nice ones. Tom poked her to move her along, and she elbowed him in the side. "I'm going to do more than that someday, bitch." She ignored him until she came to Negan's door. Tom knocked heavily, and Negan's voice shouted to enter. Putting her hand on the knob, she opened the door. As she entered the room she looked back at Tom. "Good dog!"she said sarcastically and shut the door in his face. _Fucker_ , she thought.

Turning around, she faced the inevitable, Negan. He was seated at the usual head of the table. Melinda simply waited, saying nothing. She just stared at him, her green eyes impassable. He motioned for her to sit, but she took her time getting there. Negan had been drinking, for a while based on the number of wine bottles on his table. She sat there seriously, waiting. Finally he spoke. "Have you learned your lesson, doll?" Melinda let out a cocky laugh. "Have you, Negan?" He jumped up so fast that she had no time to react. He picked her by the arms, and lightly slammed her into the door. She stared at him, green eyes filled with anger. Negan was breathing heavily.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

But Melinda would not be intimidated, never again. "You fucking heard what I said, Negan." She pushed back at him, sending him onto the dining table. She knew she would pay for this but she did not care. Leaning into his shocked face, she spoke quietly, "I'm more skilled than you think I am, I am smarter than you think I am, and I am a helluva lot stronger than you think I am. You will NEVER break me." His face was redder than she had ever seen it, but she didn't care. "If you want to kill me, fucking go ahead and do it. Then maybe I'd be left in peace."

He grabbed her suddenly, sweeping her legs into his arms before she had a chance to react. Kicking open the door to his bedroom, he stalked in and dumped her on the bed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she bellowed at him, crazy angry. He whipped his shirt off and stood over, breath coming fast. "You're mine," he threatened, and Melinda snapped. "No, I'm not! I'm not one of your concubines out there whose sole existence is to pleasure you and feed your ego. You will never own me, Negan!" With that, she stood and pushed him down on the bed, standing over him. He looked both angry and enthralled, watching her with wide eyes and chest heaving. Melinda roughly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Reaching down, she grabbed his member tightly, and massaging it. He fell back on the bed and groaned. She continued a moment before stopping, and he looked up at her confused.

Stepping off the bed she removed her clothes and stood over him. She looked like a goddess to him, with her wet hair, bright eyes, and curves that went on for forever. She climbed back on the bed, and bent her head down, licking the tip of his head, before looking up at him through her lashes. Taking it in her mouth, she ran her tongue up and down, he began to moan, trying to grab her hair. She slapped his hands away, and continued to drive him crazy with her mouth. With a pop, she released him and situated herself above him.

She leaned down, her breasts grazing against his chest and whispered into his ear. "You may be in charge out there, but you'll never have the power over me in here." She kissed his chest, moving up to his neck, stopping before she reached his lips. With a smirk on her face, she hovered just above his throbbing dick, and spoke in a voice so sexy and confident, he thought he would explode. "Say you're mine," He looked at her in shock, but she remained silent and still, teasing her pleasure above his. "I'm yours, " he choked out, his voice cracking.

She slowly lowered herself onto him, but didn't move. "Say your body is mine, Negan." His anger could not overcome the arousal he had. "My body is yours," he said. Satisfied, she began to gyrate on him, swooping and swirling up and down. On and on she went until Negan let out a primal growl and pulled her down as he exploded inside her. He was shaking slightly, eyes closed. She pulled herself off and stood to dress. He watched her through his post-coital haze, not quite sure what happened. After throwing on her shirt, she walked over and kissed his cheek. "See ya around," she muttered. She sauntered out of his room and back to her own, smiling the whole way.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry! :)

The next few days passed by in a blur, and she neither saw nor heard from Negan. She alternated her days, spending one working in the kitchen, and the next on a supply run. Dwight had said that Negan had no objections, so she took Katie, John and Josh with her. John had remembered an apple orchard nearby, which yielded the best results of all their trips. The trees were overgrown from not being tended to for a few years, but there was an abundance of fruit, ready and waiting for them. They only had to clear a few straggling walkers, and once that was done, they took turns picking apples while one kept watch. Not having thought ahead to bring boxes or baskets, they put the harvest straight into the bed of the truck, with all of them eating more than their fill. By the time the sun was ready to set, Melinda thought the truck looked like one of those ball pits, with brightly colored red and yellow apples nearly overflowing.

They returned to the Sanctuary, and everyone crowded around for at least one piece of fruit before Negan's men put a stop to it, so that it could be put into storage. Daisy was thrilled, and made plans to start making applesauce the next day. In the evenings that she was home, she invited the twins to her room to listen to music. Alex and Sophie were in awe at her furnishings, but she brushed it off. She didn't want them to feel awkward, so she told them that she earned a lot of points from her supply runs. She loved spending time with them, desperately hoping that it would serve as a distraction from the drab surroundings that they were used do. Alex would settle on her bed to read, while Melinda would brush and braid Sophie's hair.

After about a week, Dwight came to see her again in the kitchen. Sensing a pattern, she knew before he even spoke that she was being requested by Negan. This time, it was to go to Alexandria. He had pulled her aside, towards the storeroom to break the news to her. She had gone pale, clutching the counter that held a large industrial mixer. Dwight looked at her with a mix of exasperation and pity. Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, "I hope you pass your last test," before turning and walking out. She was waiting in the cafeteria the next morning, running on no sleep when Negan sauntered in, surrounded by his lackeys. Dwight was last in line, his head down, a frown on his face. Negan swept past her, without looking at her, and she stood silently and followed. This time, he pointed at the passenger seat in his truck, and she climbed in without comment. Her heart raced as she watched him round the vehicle, but he climbed in without saying a word.

Tom and Dwight arranged themselves in the back seat, while Melinda fought the urge to open the door and bolt. She prayed silently to herself for the strength to make it through the day. The truck rumbled to life, and off they went. As they pulled up to the gates of Alexandria, Melinda felt faint. She wondered if she would have even have the strength to stand. Looking up to the wall, she saw Sasha and Abraham. She automatically went to wave to them, but managed to stop herself before doing so. She could feel Negan watching out of the corner of his eye, and she did her best to look uninterested. The gates swung open, and she fought to keep her heart steady, not looking around. She was afraid of what she would see. As they parked to the right, she unbuckled her seat belt. Dwight and Tom stepped out, and Melinda opened the door with shaking hands. _You can do this_ , she thought to herself. Coming around the front of the truck, she hesitated as she saw Rick approaching them. Gone was his usual swagger, instead moving slowly. Negan smiled widely, hitching Lucille onto his shoulder.

"Now that's what I like to fucking see," he called out to Rick. "A nice submissive welcome." Rick kept his eyes down, stopping in front of Negan. He never even acknowledged Melinda, and she was grateful. Rick finally spoke, looking at Negan with tired eyes. "We have your supplies, Negan, but this is really going to put a strain on us this month. Winter is coming, and we're struggling to come up with enough for everyone. I have my people working day and night here." Stealing a look around, Melinda noticed that Daryl was not present, and nearly passed out with relief. The thought of seeing him today was almost more than she could bear, but she worried that something had happened to him. Taking another quick census, she also noted that Tara and Heath were not among the people scattered around. She deduced that they must be out on a run, one of the groups working day and night to find supplies.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by the sound of Negan clapping Rick on the back. "Well, that's not really my fucking problem, Rick, now is it?" Rick stiffened, but did not make a move to dislodge Negan's arm. "Apparently not, but if we don't have enough for ourselves, we won't be able to continue supplying you." Negan's smile disappeared, and he leaned down to Rick's face. "Again, it's not my fucking problem. If you can't continue with our arrangement, I'll just have to kill everyone here. Believe me, I can find a 100 sad fucking souls to take your place." He straightened up. "Now, where is Melinda's sorry little friend?" Rick and Melinda's mouths popped open at the same time, and Rick looked at him in astonishment. "He's on a run." Negan's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he turned to look at Melinda, who was frozen in abject humiliation.

 "Now that's a shame. I thought for sure he'd want to know how well she's adapted to the new way of life." Rick finally snuck a glance at her, his face unreadable. "He's aware, believe me." With a shit eating grin, Negan snapped his fingers, and his men sprung to life, scattering to grab their rewards. On and on they came, carrying boxes and bags of food, medicine and clothes. While they were working, Negan pulled Melinda towards the truck, leaning against it. He wrapped his arms around her, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to witness another sight. As they finished, Negan released her and opened his door. He stood on the step, looking at the Alexandrians, settling last on Rick. "The next time we come back, I want all your people here, understand?" Rick nodded mutely. Wiggling his eyebrows, he called out, "Enjoy the rest of your day." Melinda pulled herself in and buckled her seat belt, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She willed herself not to cry as she felt the truck start up. "Wave goodbye to your friends," Negan muttered, and she flashed her hand back and forth, without looking at them.

 When they arrived back at the Sanctuary, Melinda waited until Negan was busy ordering around his men, sneaking into the compound. She hurried through the cafeteria, and broke into a run when she reached the steps. She barely remembered reaching her room, flinging herself on the bed. She waited for the tears to come, but nothing happened. _Maybe this is it_ , she told herself. _Maybe I'm finally dead inside_. She heard her door open and close, but did not lift her head. She felt someone sit on the bed, jostling her slightly, but she refused to look up. As his hand rubbed up and down her back, she finally raised her head. He seemed surprised that she was not crying, but said nothing. She rolled onto her side, just watching him. Finally she spoke, her voice cracking. "How could you be so cruel?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of his. He let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not my fucking fault that they can't get enough supplies, Peach." She sat up, crossing her legs in front of her.

 "Not them. How could you be so cruel to me?" she said, almost too softly for him to hear. He sat back abruptly, looking gobsmacked. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked. He seemed to genuinely not know what she was referring to, which only made her sadder. She clasped her hands in front of her, looking down at them while she spoke.

"Leaving there was one of the hardest things I've ever done." Negan started to interrupt, but she held up her hand, begging for a moment, while she continued. "I've done nothing but commit myself to you, probably to my own detriment, and you continue to hurt me. I've proven myself to you, I think," she qualified, "and it's not enough for you. You paraded me out there, rubbing it in their faces, not because you had to, but because you could. I've never felt less valued in my life. I'm nothing but a trophy to you, something you can hold over someone else's head to show that you're superior. The fact that you have entire groups of people subjugating themselves to you is proof enough that you've won. I don't know why that's not enough for you. Why my commitment to you is not enough for you, I will never understand." With that, she lay back down, and rolled to her side. She felt him rise from her bed, the door slamming as he retreated. She wrapped her arms around herself and shut her eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Negan did not come to her room again until the night before the next collection. She said nothing, simply watching him as he approached her bed, stripping off his clothes before joining her. He turned her over, taking her from behind, like a bitch in heat. She did not argue, did not complain. When he was done, he lay with her for a few moments, before dressing and leaving without a word. The morning after, she made her first trip to the Kingdom since she left Alexandria.

Riding in the truck with Dwight, Tom, and a grubby looking older man named Leo, she sat in the back with Tom, who was literally her least favorite person on the planet, and the feeling was mutual. He lay his gun on his lap, pointed at her, and she ignored him thoroughly. Instead, she fantasized jamming her knife into his temple, or maybe just castrating him. A smirk formed on her lips, and Dwight raised his eyebrows at her in the rearview mirror. She shrugged at him and looked out the window as they approached the entrance to the Kingdom.

The brick school, surrounded by metal walls and rusted school buses looked exactly the same as the last time she had visited, and despite the melancholy that hung over her, she perked up at the thought of seeing King Ezekiel and his tiger, Shiva. She didn't know why the big cat did not disembowel her when Melinda had impulsively approached her on her first visit, but felt a certain pride that she was the only one besides Ezekiel to ever touch her. Sure enough, as soon as they stepped out of their convoy, she saw Ezekiel standing at the top of the steps by the entrance to the school with Shiva to left on a big chain. She was unnerved to see Carol, who was Daryl's dearest friend to the right of him, but remembered Daryl telling her that he thought the two of them were an item. Sure enough, they were holding hands as the Saviors approached, with Melinda trailing behind them. Negan led the group, stopping at the base of the steps suddenly as Shiva let out a roar. "Fucking cat," she could hear Negan mutter, and a smile broke out on her face, before she quickly composed herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Carol watching her, but the older woman's face was inscrutable. "Good afternoon, Negan," Ezekiel announced, sounding regal. Negan nodded, looking almost bored. "Let's not drag this out any fucking longer than necessary," Negan responded. "Do you have our supplies?" Ezekiel nodded, saying, "Of course. If your men could follow mine, they will take you to your share. Please feel free to allow my people to help carry it, should you require it." Negan only rolled his eyes, before turning to Tom and jerking his head. Tom immediately took off, followed by the rest of the men, numbering about fifteen this time, by Melinda's count.

Ezekiel finally spied her, and his face lit up. "Why Melinda! It's been too long. However are you, my dear? Would you like to come and see my sweet Shiva?" Melinda broke out into a genuine smile, and stepped around Negan who tried in vain to grab her arm. Climbing up the steps, she approached the tiger slowly. Shiva responded by rubbing her face all over Melinda, nearly knocking her over. She scratched the big cat behind her ears, while Shiva purred, sounding like a motor running. She carefully avoided looking at Carol, instead focusing on the animal in front of her. "Look at how pretty you are! You're just a big baby, aren't you?" Melinda cooed at her. "The next deer I catch, I'm going to bring you a big piece, yes I am!" The tiger rubbed her head one more time across Melinda's stomach before flopping down.

When Melinda looked up, she noticed several people watching her, many open mouthed. Negan was one of them. Her face turned pink, and she quickly thanked Ezekiel before walking back down the steps, standing behind Negan. When she looked back up the steps, she saw Carol staring at her, with a look of grudging respect. It made her chest feel warm, and she gave her a small smile in return. Almost as if it had never happened, Carol quickly returned to her cool facade. Once again, the material collection went off without any fireworks. Boxes were loaded up, and the Saviors returned to their trucks, while no one spoke. Melinda climbed back into the back seat of Dwight's truck, with Tom taking his spot beside her.

As they got back on the road, Dwight glanced at her in the mirror. "What?" she asked. "Did you really walk up and pet that fucking lion?" Dwight questioned her. "It's a tiger," Melinda corrected, "And yes, I did." Leo turned around in his seat to stare at her. "Lady, you got some brass balls," he said, while Tom just snorted.

Melinda turned, swiveling herself to look at Tom directly, narrowing her eyes. "Yes I do," she retorted. "I also promised her fresh meat when I come back. Know where I can get some?" Without warning, Tom hauled off and punched her in the face, hitting her in the eye, and she saw stars. Dwight nearly wrecked the car, reaching back to restrain Tom. "What the fuck are you doing?" Dwight screamed, as Leo aimed his gun at him. But Tom was in a rage. "Fucking bitch!" he spat at her. Melinda held her face, looking at him calmly. After a few minutes, he seemed to realize what he did, and his face became pale.

Before anyone could collect their thoughts, the trucks in front of them came to an abrupt halt. The Saviors poured out, with Negan stomping over to their truck to see what the problem was. Leo, Dwight and Melinda climbed out, but Tom made no move to exit. As she came around the back of the vehicle, Negan caught sight of her face. He remained eerily calm, walking up to her and andexamining her swollen cheek. She had a cut along the bottom of her eye, which was already turning purple. She could feel it swelling by the second. In a dangerously soft voice, Negan addressed Dwight. "What the fuck happened?" Dwight took an automatic step back, with his hands up in a surrender position. "Tom fucking hit her, Boss."

In a flash, Negan was at the truck, nearly ripping the door off the hinges, pulling Tom out, who fell onto the ground on his knees. With a quick look at Dwight, he called out, "Bring me Lucille, now." Dwight jogged to the first truck, grabbing it out and bringing it back to Negan's waiting hand. Tom was now shaking, his eyes wide. "She provoked me, Negan! She threatened to feed me to that fucking tiger." It didn't matter the reason for the punch. Negan swung, and the bat connected with Tom's head, making a sickening crack. "I don't fucking care if she fucking sliced your left nut off with a fucking rusty razor, you piece of shit." Over and over he swung, until Tom's head was shattered, pieces of brain matter spilling out over the road. Melinda watched as his legs twitched, finally becoming still.

After what felt like an eternity, Negan straightened up and turned to face Melinda and his men. Propping the bat on his shoulder, he walked between them all, blood dripping as he moved. "Listen to me, because I will not be fucking repeating myself ever again. If any of you fucks ever lays a fucking hand on ANY woman, I will end your miserable fucking lives. Do you understand me?" Every man nodded in unison. Without another word, he took Melinda carefully by the arm, steering her towards his truck. After settling themselves in, he gunned the engine, speeding towards the Sanctuary. While he drove, Melinda gingerly poked at her cheekbone, wondering if it was broken. She snuck a look at Negan, who was grinding his teeth, fingers clamped on the steering wheel.

He honked the horn as he sped to the gate, and it was quickly opened. Slamming the car into park, he came around and opened the door for her, gingerly helping her out. Her vision was blurry, and her head was starting to pound. Taking her by the arm, he ordered the men to unload the boxes, and pulled her quickly into the building. She heard a gasp as she entered, and saw Daisy looking at her. She gave her a thumbs up, mouthing, "I'm ok," as she passed. People knelt as they walked, but Negan didn't look at them, instead guiding her up the steps to the living areas. She was surprised when he didn't open the third floor stairwell door, instead propelling her to the fifth floor. As they approached the bordello, he let go of her to open the door, ordering the mysterious Sherry to bring a cold washcloth and painkillers to his room. She couldn't see who he had addressed, since her vision was getting spottier.

They made their way to his room, and he guided her to his bedroom. Helping her to the bed, he told her to lay, and she did. Out of her good eye, she saw a pretty woman with long brown hair hurry in, washcloth in one hand and a glass of water and pills in the other. She looked at Melinda with genuine concern, but she did not speak. Melinda gave her an apologetic smile, before Negan blocked her view. He turned back to Melinda, effectively dismissing Sherry, and the door quietly closed behind them. He held out the glass and two white pills. She looked at him curiously, but he simply shook the pills at her. With a sigh, she threw them in her mouth and took a gulp of water. "Move over," he said, and she did. He lay on his side next to her, setting the cold washcloth on her eye. She winced, but said nothing. He held it to her face with a steady hand, as small drops of water rolled down the side of her face. In a few minutes, her hands and fingers began to feel tingly and light. Her stomach felt fluttery and she giggled. "Well, this is nice," she said, her words slurring together. "Go to sleep," he told her, not unkindly. As she started to get drowsy, she turned to her side, and the washcloth slipped off. Slipping into a peaceful state, she felt him rise, the door opening and closing


	19. Chapter 19

_"Stay with me, Melinda. Please don't leave me." She wrapped her arms around him, snuggling into his neck, breathing in his warm scent. The scent that always brings her back to him. A musky smell of hard work, earth, and grass. It was intoxicating, and she couldn't get closer to him. Her lips at his neck, kissing and feeling his strength as his arms cradled her. "I'll never leave you," she breathed. Trailing her lips along his collarbone and up his neck to his mouth. His warm, soft mouth. She felt like she was in a trance. I love you, I love you, I will always love you. I will never leave you. Believe me._

_Melinda, don't leave me._

_Melinda...Melinda..._

"Melinda?"

Melinda dragged her eyes open, and her head throbbed. Sherry was standing over her, a look of concern in her blue eyes. They were the same color as Dwight's, funnily enough. "Are you all right?" she questioned. "You were talking in your sleep." Melinda nodded her head, feeling her cheek with her fingers. "Was I? I don't remember dreaming about anything." The lie came out easily, she noticed.

She sat up slowly, and her face started to throb. Her left eye was almost completely swollen shut. As she stood, she felt a bit of vertigo, and Sherry put her arm around Melinda's shoulder to steady her. "Go slowly. You had some pretty strong painkillers last night." Sherry told her. Melinda looked out the window, seeing that the sun was low in the sky already. "How long was I out for?" she asked. Sherry thought a moment before answering. "Well, it's about four o'clock now. So I'd say about twenty hours."

"Wow," Melinda muttered. Her body was sore from not moving for so long, and she carefully stretched her arms and legs, trying to loosen them up. Sherry watched her with interest. "So you're the famous Melinda, huh?" Melinda's face turned pink as she stared back. "Bad famous or good famous?" she asked, and Sherry laughed. "Very good, in my opinion. I heard that you started doing supply runs with new people." She smiled back at Sherry. "Yeah, there are some really great people here. Very capable. In fact, Dwight and I-"

Realizing who she was talking to, she covered her mouth with her hands, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "Please forgive me. I occasionally suffer from verbal diarrhea." Sherry merely patted her arm. "It's fine. You didn't say anything wrong." She looked over her shoulder, a faraway look in her eyes. Melinda remained silent, not wanting to intrude on any private memories she was reliving. Shaking her head slightly, a smile returned to her face.

"Dwight is a good man, despite how he acts sometimes." Just as Melinda went to speak, the bedroom door opened and Negan came strolling in. Seeing her face, he came over to her, gently cradling her head in his hands. "That motherfucker," he muttered. "I would bash his fucking skull in again if I could." "I'm fine," Melinda said automatically. Both Negan and Sherry looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Well, I will be," she shot back. Negan turned to Sherry, a questioning look on his face. "What do you think?" he asked her. Sherry stepped over to her, gesturing to her eye, but not touching it. "It's still really swollen, here and here," she pointed out. "I don't think it's fractured, but without an x-ray, we can't really say for sure. I recommend that she take it easy for a few days, and keep taking the anti-inflammatories and these," she said, shaking a pill bottle in her hand. "I also cleaned and disinfected the cut while she slept." Melinda looked at her confused, and Sherry shrugged. "I was a nurse. Before."

Melinda was oddly touched that this woman had watched over her while she slept, even if she didn't do it of her own volition. "Thank you," she told Sherry, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. Sherry smiled serenely. "My pleasure," she answered. Negan nodded, seeming satisfied with her answer. Turning to Melinda, he said, "You're on rest for the next week. No kitchen duties and no runs. Dinner will be brought to your room soon." Melinda nodded grudgingly, unsure of how the hell she was supposed to occupy herself for the next week. Hopefully she healed quicker than that, and could get back to work. Even though she had slept most of the day, Melinda felt tired, and she couldn't stifle a yawn. It stretched her sore cheek, which caused her to wince painfully. Sherry quickly spoke. "Why don't I walk her to her room?" she suggested. Negan nodded and kissed the top of Melinda's head. Stepping back with a gleam in his eye, he looked at Sherry. "Maybe get her a shower first." Melinda flipped him off, and surprisingly, he just laughed.

Sherry took her arm, guiding her out of the bedroom and into the hall. They walked slowly, neither one speaking. After walking carefully down the flights of steps, they stopped in her room for her toiletries and a change of clothes. After cleaning herself up, Melinda caught a look at herself in the mirror, and swore under her breath. Looking at Sherry, she asked, "Is it wrong that I'm glad that asshole is dead?" Sherry just chuckled as they walked back to Melinda's room. "I don't think anyone was very fond of Tom around here." She opened the door and stepped in. Sherry stood outside, uncertainly. Melinda cocked her head at her. "Would you like to come in for a moment?"

Stepping in, Sherry closed the door behind her. Setting the pill bottle on the dresser, she looked around at Melinda's room curiously. Melinda moved to the bed, sitting down with a groan. Sherry approached, perching herself on the corner of the mattress. Looking uncomfortable, she spoke, head down . "I'm not sure what you think of me, but I want you to know, Dwight and I made the decision for me to become one of Negan's wives together. We felt, at the time, that it was the best chance for me to remain safe. It was the hardest decision I have ever made."

Melinda thought for a moment before responding. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she spoke. "Who am I to judge you? We have all made decisions that no one else can understand. All you can do is make the best of them and keep going." With a smile, she continued, "I happen to believe that things always work out the way they were meant to. And you never know what the future holds." Sherry looked at her with a spark of understanding in her eyes. Even they were alone together, she leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "Whatever decisions you've made, Melinda, don't second guess them." Melinda's good eye opened wide, surprised.

"Whoever you were dreaming about, I'm sure it wasn't Negan. And that's ok with me." Sherry quickly stood up, the moment over. Giving her a gentle hug, she hurried to the door and left. Melinda lay back gently, eye on the ceiling, digesting what Sherry said. She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes again, Negan was standing over her with a glass of water and her pills. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep. Negan handed her the water and pills before answering. "Around eleven," he said, and he sounded tired. "Have you slept?" she wondered, and he shook his head. She slid over, giving him the choice to lay down. He looked dubious, but she said nothing. Negan stripped off his shirt, and kicked off his boots, pulling the sheet down and settling in. She turned on her side, and he brushed the hair softly off of her sore face. It was quiet for a few minutes, and she had nearly dozed off when he spoke. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice.

"It's not your fault," she replied as he continued to run his fingers through her hair. "I knew Tom was a loose cannon, and I should have never let you anywhere near him. That's my fault, and I own that." She lay there for a moment, as he continued to stroke her head. "I knew he was a bad guy as well, and I did provoke him. But it was no excuse for hitting me. And I'm not sorry he's dead." She felt her eyes getting heavy, and she let out a deep breath. She fell asleep with Negan still soothing her head.


	20. Chapter 20

"You look so much better!" exclaimed Sherry.

It had been seven long days, but Melinda was finally starting to feel like her old self. She was still bruised, and her cut was healing, but her vision was perfect. Sherry had been checking on her progress, but they hadn't seen each other for a couple days. Melinda had spent her down time unsure of what to do with herself. She hadn't been allowed to go on runs, and she was banned from the kitchen as well. Most days, she wandered around the Sanctuary, sitting outside in the sun, or hanging out in the cafeteria.

Usually she ate meals with Daisy and the twins, and occasionally chatting with Dwight. During her recuperation, Katie, Josh and John took out new people to do test runs. There were now seven people capable enough to search for supplies. Marc, an Australian who had been on holiday when the outbreak happened, was small and fast, able to maneuver through groups of walkers. Stella was in her fifties, lean and grizzled from a lifetime working her family's farm. She was quiet, and took direction well. She was also handy with a short sword, able to take down several walkers without breaking a sweat.

The other new recruits were Frankie and Molly, a younger couple from D.C. They had both worked for the government, though they were reluctant to say where exactly. Everyone had peppered them with questions about the lack of response from the country's leaders after the outbreak, but they wouldn't discuss it. Melinda wasn't exactly fond of them, but she chalked it up to a personality difference. They weren't overtly rude, but they weren't exactly friendly. Regardless, when the seven went out while she was grounded, they had done well.

John and Josh had taken them back to the orchard for more apples, and they had also found a large stash of batteries and gas in addition to more paper supplies.  
Now that Sherry had released her from her convalescence, she was itching to get back out. Instead of alternating her supply days with kitchen duty, she decided to make runs every day. She double checked with Dwight, and he didn't see a problem with it. He was in charge while Negan was out on an extended trip. He was overseeing the satellite buildings, where more Saviors protected supplies that were stored away, not needed at the Sanctuary.

When she, Katie, Josh and John returned from their fourth run, she was surprised to see that Negan had returned. After unloading their supplies, she headed into the cafeteria to grab some dinner before heading to her room. She chatted with Daisy, who gave her some extra applesauce. She thought of Tara while she ate it, missing her friend terribly. The next visit to Alexandria was tomorrow, and Melinda's stomach was in knots just thinking about it.

Negan had ordered that everyone be there, and this would be the first time she would lay eyes on Daryl in two months. She felt an ache in her heart just thinking of his name, and said a silent prayed to a God that she wasn't sure existed that everything went smoothly. The thought of Negan singling him out terrified her, and she hoped that nothing would set him off.Walking back to her room, she nearly ran smack into Negan. Appraising her face, he gave her a nod of approval. "You look much better, Peach." She smiled at him. "I feel much better."

He opened her door, walking over to her bed and sitting down. She followed him over and sat down next to him, their thighs touching. Almost absently, he ran his hand up and down her leg, lost in thought. She contemplated asking him if something was wrong, but thought better of it. If there was something he wanted to share with her, he would let her know. Instead, she waited.

After a moment, he pulled her to him, running his lips up and down her neck. "I need you," he murmured into her hair. She ran her nails up and down the back of his neck the way he liked and he moaned, pushing her down onto the bed. Lifting up her shirt, he nuzzled her stomach while massaging her breasts. All the while, she kept running her nails along the back of his head, sending him into a frenzy.

Unable to stop himself, he unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them off so that he could have full access to her. Before she knew it, he had her stripped naked as he lay on top of her. He kissed and nibbled her neck, tickling her with his scruff. She helped him pull off his shirt, and he quickly disposed of the rest of his clothes, plunging into her. She gasped, and he maneuvered his arms behind her legs so that they were nearly on his shoulders. In and out he pushed, so fast that she thought he would tear through her. "Let me up," she moaned, and he rolled over, pulling her on top. Straddling him, he cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples with his thumbs, causing them to harden. He sat up, licking and kissing them as she bounced up and down. He started to tense up, and she knew he was close. Going faster and faster, he finally climaxed, groaning into her chest, holding her to him.

Releasing her, he fell back onto her pillow, breathing heavy, slick with sweat. Melinda gently eased herself off of him, her thighs shaking. She lay on her side, head on her hand, just watching him. After coming down, he looked over at her. "Did you-" he stopped. Melinda smiled and shook her head. "No, I didn't but that's ok. It doesn't always happen for women."

The cocky smile returned, and he said, "They always do with me, doll."

Melinda flopped onto her back, and sighed. "Obviously not, Negan. But it's not a big deal. I still enjoyed it." He rolled over, laying his head on her breasts while he ran his hand up and down her hips and thighs. "I can return the favor for you." She smiled down at him and assured him that she was fine, running her hand through his hair. After a few minutes, she rolled onto her side, bringing his arm with her and laying it across her hips. He began stroking them before sidling up to her, the hairs on his chest tickling her back. Both fell asleep briefly, before he rose out of her bed, dressing himself.

"You're welcome to stay," she said sleepily, but he declined. "I gotta get some things done before we go to Alexandria tomorrow." She nodded that she understood, and lay on her back, still nude. He watched as she stretched, back arched, and he wanted to take her again. Instead, he finished dressing. Kissing her forehead, he walked to the door. Before opening it, he spoke without looking at her. "I'll see you in the morning for the trip to Alexandria."

"I'll be ready," she said as he closed the door.


	21. Chapter 21

Melinda brushed at the stray hairs blowing around her face as the wind whipped them around in haphazard circles. Her window was down halfway, and Lucille was sitting between her and Negan in the truck. They were almost to Alexandria, and he rubbed the handle of the bat, almost unthinkingly. As they made the turn onto the road that would lead to the gates, her anxiety grew. Negan had demanded that all the residents be present for this pickup, and this would be the first time that she would lay eyes on Daryl since she left. She said a silent request that he do nothing to cause a reaction from Negan. Of course at this point, he might hate her so much that it would be a moot point.

Her stomach began to clench, but she fought the urge to wrap her arms around her middle, not wanting Negan to notice. Instead, she concentrated on keeping her face neutral. A few moments later, the wall came into sight, and the back of her neck began to tingle, making it's way up her scalp. She hurriedly undid her ponytail, sweeping the stray hairs back up for something to do with her hands. With a quick honk, the gates opened, and the procession of Saviors began. Negan had insisted on twice the normal amount of men coming, about two dozen, so there were six trucks lumbering into the community. They parked in a semi-circle just inside the gate, effectively blocking it.

Melinda tried to slow the beating of her heart before stepping out. The Alexandrians were clustered together, and it didn't take Melinda long to find him. He was positioned just behind Rick, and he looked thin and tired. She stamped down the primal desire to run to him, to drag him away from the very situation that was unfolding in front of her. Coming around the truck, he finally looked at her, their eyes meeting for a moment. Melinda felt rooted to the spot as his eyes locked on hers. His face hardened, and she flushed, averting her eyes. Negan grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him towards Rick. She followed automatically, not really feeling the ground as she walked. She only hoped that her legs would not give out.

The two leaders faced each other, neither speaking. Negan dropped her hand, his other holding Lucille against his shoulder. "Well, isn't this nice? Your whole motley crew is here. Won't this be fun?" Negan said, a large smile on his face. Glancing at Daryl, he gave him a wink. Daryl's hands clenched into fists, but he otherwise didn't react. Melinda's eyes closed against her will, and she had to force them back open. Afraid to look at Daryl again, she searched the crowd, seeing Tara standing back towards the pantry.

As Negan started to speak again, she pulled her eyes back forward, face impassive. "So we all know what day it is. Collection day. I know you said you were struggling last time, I hope I didn't come here to be disappointed. Things do not fucking end well when I am disappointed." Rick stood up straight, hand on his hip. "Although we have more than enough this time, I want to ask you again to consider another way. It doesn't have to be like this. We can all work together."

She felt Negan shift next to her, and she knew he was getting irritated. Rick continued speaking anyways. "There are three communities here that are supplying you, but getting nothing in return. We can change that. Let's find a way to make this work for everyone." Negan sighed deeply, gripping Lucille tighter. "You disappoint me, Rick. Truly."

Before he could utter another word, shots rang out behind them, and three of the Saviors dropped where they stood. "Now!" Rick shouted, drawing his Colt, and all hell broke loose. Negan shoved her away, and she toppled backwards onto the ground. As screams and shots fell over her, she crawled to the nearest truck, diving under it and curling up between the wheels. Covering her head with her hands, she listened to the sounds of destruction for what felt like an hour. When it gradually became quiet, she rolled out from under the truck, squinting through the smoke.

About thirty feet away from her, Negan was on his knees, face bloody and hands up. Saviors were scattered dead on the ground, save six, including Dwight. They had their guns pointed at Negan, while Dwight removed the barbed wire from Lucille. Behind the Saviors were men and women from the Kingdom and the Hilltop. They had come in through the open gate once the shots started. Everyone was breathing heavily, and Rick was standing over Negan, gun cocked. She had never seen him look so unhinged.

"Rick! No!" she screamed, barreling towards him. She ran past Dwight, grabbing the bat from his hand and skidding to a stop in front of Negan and Rick, bat raised. He smiled at her and turned to face Rick. "Rick, don't." She said, breathless. He turned his head to look at her and she was seriously frightened. Daryl had told her how dangerous Rick could be when it came to his family, but she had never witnessed his raw power and rage. She raised one hand in a gesture of peace, allowing him a moment to calm down. Negan merely smirked at him, trying to egg him on. Incrementally, Rick began to gain control of himself. He did not move his gun, however, keeping it trained on Negan's head. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't put every bullet in my gun in his head?" he asked her.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at Negan while speaking to Rick. "Because that wasn't the plan." As soon as the words left her mouth, Negan's smiled faltered, and she swung Lucille, connecting with his head. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, and she dropped the bat next to him. It hit the ground with a clatter. "Lock him up," she muttered to Rick walking away from him into Alexandria. She was on autopilot, feet carrying her to the back of the town to the cemetery. When she reached Eric's grave, she dropped to her knees.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two quick updates, because I felt that it should be split up. For those reading, thank you so much!

Melinda sat in a chair, waiting for Negan to regain consciousness. He was laying on a bed in the basement of the house next to the pantry. A cell had been built before she arrived, in case it was ever needed for unruly residents. She thought about the aftermath of what occurred. She knew Daryl had been ok after the shootout because he had been standing behind Rick when she ran up to him, his bow raised at Negan's head.

When she had walked back up to the gates from the cemetery, she vaguely looked around, taking stock of the injured and dead. All of the Saviors, except for Dwight, Jamie, and a few others that they had recruited were dead. The Kingdom and Hilltop had lost five people each, all men. On the Alexandrian side, Tobin had been shot in the head, and Gabriel had been shot in the leg, though he would recover. It turned out that Rick had been able to tackle Negan during the fight, taking him out of the conflict.

Melinda chuckled darkly to herself. His hubris in carrying Lucille every time he came to Alexandria, and not a gun, had made his undoing easier. She had not spoken to anyone but Dwight since the standoff ended. She had to finish her part in this, and that meant speaking to Negan. Rick and Dwight were off hammering the truce negotiations, and Dwight would be leading the Sanctuary.

Negan's eyes fluttered open, and Melinda sat up straight. He struggled to focus in the dim light, and he groaned softly. His hand reached up to rub where she had hit him, and she spoke softly. "Hello, Negan."

He turned his head slowly to the left, to focus on her. "That was quite a hit, Peach. I'm impressed." She did not smile, waiting for him to sit up. Slowly he did, putting his feet on the ground. Looking around, he finally focused on her, his face grim.She cleared her throat. "I'm sure you have some questions. I'm here to answer them." The corner of his mouth quirked up, wryly. "Did you come up with this plan yourself?" he asked.

She took a sip of her water before answering. "I'm the one who set this series of events in motion, but we all worked together to take you down. You were right about one thing on the day we met. The three communities were working together to gather fighters to confront you. That was true." He nodded his head, as if confirming his own suspicions.  
"Is that why you volunteered to come with me?" he questioned. She affirmed, nodding her head. "Partly," she answered. Her eyes unfocused slightly as she thought back to that day. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I couldn't watch another community implode. I just didn't tell you that I would be willing to do anything to stop it." She thought back to when she ran to her house to grab her things. She had scribbled a hasty note, hiding it in a ball of tissues that she gave to Tara. It was a note for Daryl.

As she explained this to him, he looked insulted. "I thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend," he said accusingly. She smiled gently at him. "He's not," she said. "He's the love of my life. I would do anything for him."

Negan swallowed hard, his voice low. "So what did the note say?" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It was personal, but I did let him know to keep fighting, and that I would do what I could from inside. Or die trying." He looked thoughtful at that answer, and it was quiet for a moment.

He rubbed his head gingerly, and Melinda tossed a couple of packets of aspirin into his lap. Rising, she walked to the bars and set her bottle of water just inside the cell before stepping back to her chair. "Thanks," he muttered, rising slowly to retrieve it. Ripping open the packets with his teeth, he tossed them into his mouth, taking a large swig of water. He held his hand out to give it back to her but she motioned for him to keep it. He sat back down on the bed, and she looked at him, waiting for the next inquiry.

"What about Dwight, that treacherous fucker?" he asked. She let out a sigh of exasperation. "If you continue to crush people under your boot heel, don't you think they're going to eventually want to crawl out from under it?" She stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the bars. "Dwight didn't take much convincing. We had plenty of time on our first hunting trip to talk," she said.

They were in the car, driving to a large wooded area about two hours away from the Sanctuary, when she first spoke to him. "Daryl told me about you," she said quietly, watching Dwight. His face didn't change, but his hands had clenched the steering wheel, turning white. "He told me that he had tried to save you and Sherry, and you left him in the middle of nowhere," she continued.

"Yeah, so?" he had responded. She shrugged, speaking again. "He also told me that you shot him in the shoulder before the first big meeting with Negan. He thought that you did it to weaken him, and make him less of a target. Is that true?"

"What the hell does it matter?" he snapped. She looked at him seriously. "It matters to me," she replied. "It tells me that you are a good person. A good person in a very bad situation." With that, she let it drop, not speaking until they were heavy into tracking their first doe.

Walking beside her, he said, "Why did you bring that up? What do you want from me?" She continued walking, speaking softly. "I want your help. We can take him down." He snorted, "Why don't you just kill him yourself?"

She stopped, turning to face him. "I don't want to kill him. I want to stop him, remove him from power. I've seen some of the men in your group and they're just as power hungry as he is. It's like a Hydra," she said. When he looked confused, she elaborated. "You know, the Greek myth. Many headed monster. When you cut off a head, two more sprout in it's place. If you make it an act of aggression, you'll create more Negans." She saw a spark in his eyes of understanding, but just as quickly, it was gone.

"And how do you know I won't go right to him and tell him everything you just said?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders again, answering honestly. "I don't. And if I die, at least I died trying to keep the ones I love safe. But I don't think you will. Again, good man: bad situation." Letting it drop, she continued on. They did not speak of it again until they were loading up the deer carcasses.

"So what's your plan?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "To fight," she replied. "We can outnumber him and overpower him. Simple as that." Dwight laughed bitterly. "He's not stupid. He won't fall for it. He doesn't trust you." She looked at him levelly. "I wasn't planning on doing it tomorrow," she retorted. "I don't plan on giving him any reason to not trust me in the future."

Negan was watching her intently as she finished telling him about the hunting trip. "So after one fucking conversation he fell in line behind you?" he asked skeptically. She smiled at him sweetly. "Actually I think it was after we got back and you punched him in the face."

She sat back down in the chair, crossing her legs demurely. "Since he was your second in command, he was free to come and go as he pleased. He first approached Ezekiel at the Kingdom. He's the most level headed of the three leaders."

"How did he get into the Kingdom to speak with Ezekiel without me there?" he asked, curiously. She bobbed her foot up and down. "He told them that I had sent him. Mentioned my fondness for Shiva, which only the Kingdom and Alexandrians were aware of. From there, it was easy for all the groups to communicate." Negan looked impressed, despite himself. "I think I underestimated you, doll." She looked at him knowingly. "I know you did," she murmured.

"And the Hilltop?" he pressed. "Right under your nose," she answered back. "When you let Jesus follow me over to the garden, we were able to speak. He let me know that he and several of his people were in, and training with Rick. Rick used to be a sheriff, you know," she said vaguely. "He was able to plan exactly how they standoff would start."  
"What about Gregory?" he asked. She leaned forward, her eyes shining. "Oh, we went around him. He's too much of a wuss to make the hard decisions. In fact, I'd wager that he knew nothing about this until today."

She sat back again. "So, I played my part as a willing hostage, Dwight sussed out who would help in the Sanctuary, and thanks to you letting me take people on runs, there is now a growing group capable of providing for the Sanctuary."

She rose, heading for the door. As soon as her foot hit the first step, Negan spoke again. "Do you really think Daryl will forgive you for the things you've done? For fucking me over and over?" She stood motionless for a long time before answering.

"No, I don't," she said, her voice cracking. "But he's alive, and he's safe, and that's all that ever mattered to me. I can live my life alone knowing that he's ok." She turned and smiled at him sadly, tears in her eyes. She looked so sad, so heartbreakingly beautiful, that he actually felt bad for her. "See ya, Peach," was all he said. "Goodbye, Negan," she said and descended the steps.

Walking out of the house, she headed to her house, head swimming. She slowly climbed the steps and walked into the living room. Moving to the stereo system, she popped in a CD and turned the volume up as loud as it could go. She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on the floor in front of it, resting her back against it and pulling her knees up to her chest. As the music started she lay her head on her knees.

When Otis Redding started singing "These Arms of Mine," she finally broke, the reality of the last few months finally bubbling up through her tears. She let them fall, her shoulders heaving up and down. Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her onto his lap on the couch. He just held her, saying nothing while she sobbed. "I'm sorry," she cried over and over into his neck. "I'm so sorry." He said nothing, just rocking her.

Eventually, she fell asleep, exhausted from the emotional toll of the day. Daryl carried her up to her bedroom, setting her gently down on her side. She shuddered in her sleep, curling up into a tiny ball. Quietly, he backed out of the room, closing the door gently.


	23. Chapter 23

**Daryl**

Daryl never really believed that Melinda would stay with him forever. During their time together, he always waited for the other shoe to drop. And when it did, it dropped like an anchor.

He had been with other women before the world ended, but they had always been one night stands or drunken encounters at the local bar. He never felt comfortable enough with them to pursue a relationship. Growing up the way he had, with an abuser for a father and a mother who drank herself to death, he simply had no frame of reference for a healthy relationship. His brother, Merle, had at least fared better than he, engaging in a string of short couplings.

But Daryl did not have any confidence that he had anything to offer the opposite sex, so he didn't bother. Instead, he had thrown himself headlong into just trying to survive, both in the old world and the new. Slowly, he had opened up to his new family, but there was no one to share the intimate moments that the rest of his friends had taken for granted. Until she came along.

He remembered the day she had showed up with Aaron, wild eyed and unsure. She was beautiful, of course, but so were most of the women he had spent the last few years with. Then Negan showed up for his first collection, and they were on their heels. When Rick suggested he take Melinda out on a run to see how she would do, he at first refused, not wanting to babysit her. Rick insisted, and Daryl caved like he always did. Rick was the brother that he always wanted Merle to be, so Daryl did whatever Rick thought was right.

To his surprise, she was very capable. She seemed comfortable with him, and never second guessed herself. He admired that, as he had felt unsure of himself for so long after joining the Atlanta group. Slowly, they had gone on more and more excursions together, and he felt more and more at home with her. The feelings for her crept up on him without his even knowing it.

The morning that Eric was killed, he had been dreaming of Glenn, his death at the hands of Negan. Daryl had been on his knees, injured and impotent, raging internally at not being able to stop it. As he woke himself, he had felt her hand on his head, trying to soothe him. At that moment, he felt a peace inside his soul that calmed him immediately.  
When she had taken his spot to get some rest, he watched over her. She too had been having some sort of nightmare, and in her sleep rolled over, wrapping her arms around him. His skin felt prickly where her body touched his, and he fought the urge kiss the top of her head. When she started to mumble, he impulsively ran his hand up and down her spine to try and chase away whatever demons were terrorizing her. As she woke, her face became pink, and he knew he had crossed a line. He remembered her apologizing, and he reverted to his usual stoic demeanor.

She had followed him into the kitchen, upset. He didn't know how to comfort her, but he did his best. And again she touched him, and his arm tingled long after she removed her hand.

After they returned to the carnage in Alexandria, he moved in a stupor, digging the grave of one of the first people to make him feel at home there. He had walked to her house, some unseen force pulling him there after the makeshift funeral. When she opened the door, he didn't know what to say, but she let him in just the same. It was then that she had kissed him, leaving him in shock. Surely she was just confused.

He had given her several chances to reconsider, which had only made her angry. She had grabbed his face, pulling him into her, and it only took a moment for him to respond. When their lips touched, it squelched an ache in his heart that he had only just noticed that was there. He felt lost in her arms, wanting to stay there forever. That night, he watched over her as she slept, just caressing her, and she slept peacefully.

The next morning, when she woke, her face turned that lovely shade of pink, and she buried it in his chest. Of course she was regretting the night before, he thought. He mentioned as much, but no, she didn't. Instead, she pulled him in for a tender kiss, and he allowed himself to believe that she might actually care for him.

The next month had been the best of his life. They had come from completely different backgrounds, but it didn't seemed to matter to Melinda that they would have never meshed in the old world. He was from backwoods Georgia, and she was from the metropolitan North, but she didn't care. He listened to her talk about her old life, and gradually he opened up to her about his. It made him feel vulnerable, but she never judged him or the things he had to do to survive.

He felt like a scared little boy when he first showed her the scars on his back, mementos from his troubled upbringing and raging father. But she kissed his cheeks, rubbing her fingers over the scars. Over time, he thought she did it almost unconsciously, trying to erase them.

Then came the day it all fell apart, like he always feared it would. Negan had come, and Spencer had paid the price. He remembered her rushing up to Rick and Negan, begging for a moment to talk to him. He had been rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear, and he blamed himself for the sequence of events that had followed. When they emerged from the garage, Negan had announced that no more of them would die that day, but that Melinda would be coming with him.

Melinda had refused to look at Daryl, and he watched helplessly as she bolted for her house to pack up her things, her ponytail flying behind her. Abraham had grasped his arm in a silent warning not to do anything, and Daryl had to summon superhuman strength to remain still. When she returned to the group with her backpack, he mentally willed her to look at him, give him some sign of what he should do, but she didn't. Instead she walked up to Tara, who was in shock, grabbing her quickly, telling her not to cry, and stuffing tissues in her hand before departing.

It wasn't until Negan's truck with Melinda in it crossed the gate that he was able to move. He screamed her name, running after her, and Rick and Abraham tackled him. He was nearly feral, trying to fight them off, but they overpowered him. He sagged to the ground as Tara came running up to him, dropping to her knees. She was crying, and her nose was running as she shook her hand in his face. "She gave me a note," she said over and over.

Snatching it out of her hand, he took off towards the cemetery, away from everyone. He had opened it and read it, his stomach dropping to his feet.

 _Daryl,_  
_Please forgive me. I love you. I love you too much to watch something happen to you. I have to end this. I can end this, I know I can. No matter what happens, what I may have to do, please know that I love you more than my own life. Get Ezekiel, get Jesus, keep fighting no matter what. I'll figure out a way to win._  
_Never doubt my love for you, never._  
_M_

He had doubled over, sobbing into the grass. How could she do this? Why wouldn't she let him protect her?

Rick had approached him, taking the note gently out of Daryl's hands, reading it quickly. Kneeling down, he placed his hand on Daryl's shoulder, speaking quietly. "We'll get her back, brother. I promise you, we'll get her back." But Daryl was too far gone to comprehend.

The next several days were a nightmare from which he couldn't wake. Rick had to beg him not to go after her, to give her time to do what she said she was going to do. Daryl had erupted, turning on Rick. "It's easy for you to fucking say that! It's not your woman there!" Rick took a step back, stung. "I know that," he said quietly. "But she's important to you, so she's my family too. And we never abandon our family. But if we don't do this right, we'll all die, and it will have been for nothing. We can't put her in any more danger than she's already in."

So Daryl waited. And then came the day that Jesus showed up with Dwight. He thought that they were coming to tell him that Melinda was dead and he lost it, grabbing Dwight by the shirt and slamming him to the ground. "Where is she?" he shouted. "What did you do to her?" Jesus, Rick and Abraham had to pull him off of Dwight, who looked terrified.  
"She's alive, man." Dwight said in a shaky voice, sitting up. "She's hanging in there." He quickly stood up, looking at Rick. He filled them in on the events at the Sanctuary and the talk he had with Melinda, promising to recruit fighters to help take Negan down. As they set plans to meet again, Jesus approached Daryl warily.

Leaning into him, Jesus spoke. "I saw her, Daryl. She looks good. She's strong, and she's playing him like a fiddle." Daryl's eyes closed involuntarily, and when he opened them again, they were shiny with tears. Jesus spoke again, softly. "She told me to tell you that you two are still a team, no matter what." With that, Jesus stepped back, giving Daryl space.

Daryl turned on his heel, heading to her house. Opening the door, he headed to the steps, climbing them and veering into her room. Their room. He sat on the bed, grabbing her pillow and pressing it to his face, breathing in her scent. He tried not to imagine what she was doing with Negan. It was more than he could bear. Instead, he pulled out her note to him, reading it over and over until the letters looked like gibberish.

He couldn't sleep the night before the takedown. He was terrified of everything. Of losing her, of losing his family, of her not wanting him anymore. He could live without her, as long as she was safe and happy. He just couldn't live with her at the Sanctuary with Negan.

When the Savior's trucks pulled in, he knew she would be in the truck with Negan. He tried to turn his emotions off, not wanting to make a mistake that would come down on her head. When she stepped out, he only looked at her briefly. She had a bruise under one eye, and a cut that was healing. He nearly went into a rage, but tamped down on it the best he could. Praying that Negan would fight back, he would love nothing more than to put an arrow straight through his head.

Daryl watched as Negan pulled Melinda along by the hand, her face impassive. He fought the urge to grab her and spirit her away from the upcoming fight. But then the shots came, and Negan pushed her away. It seemed like everything happened in slow motion then. He fired shots at the Saviors that Dwight had told them could not be recruited, even has he saw her scramble to get under the truck. Satisfied that she was safe for the time being, he was able to focus on the fight at hand. Over and over he shot, taking people down left and right, as Rick fought Negan, taking him out.

Suddenly, it was over as quickly as it began, and she crawled out, seeing Rick standing over Negan. She screamed, running full tilt towards them, grabbing Negan's bat out of Dwight's hand, and his heart nearly stopped. For a brief moment, he thought that she was going to hit Rick to save Negan. But she didn't. She swung, connecting with Negan's head, and he went down like a pile of bricks. She dropped the bat as she walked away, and he went to follow her, but Tara stopped him.

"I know it's killing you, Daryl. But give her some time. We have no idea what's she's been through." Tara said. So he waited. He could wait forever for her, knowing that she was safe.

After they deposited Negan into the jail, he went back upstairs to look for her. As he went around the bend, he heard her talking to Rick, requesting to speak with Negan. At first, Rick had refused, but she pleaded her case. "If he ever gets out, I will be the first one he comes after. Please let me say my piece." Rick nodded his head, and she disappeared inside the house.

Daryl knew he shouldn't do it, but he crept in after her, listening at the top of the stairs. When she told Negan that Daryl was the love of her life, he nearly wept. Nothing else mattered, nothing she did or said when she was with Negan could change the declaration she made. He knew it deep in his heart.

He heard her move to the steps, and he started to leave, when he heard Negan speak. "Do you really think Daryl will forgive you for the things you've done? For fucking me over and over?" he taunted her. Melinda took in a sharp breath, and Daryl's heart pounded. He heard her respond, and she sounded so sad that he thought he might never recover.  
"No, I don't." she said. "But he's alive, and he's safe, and that's all that ever mattered to me. I can live my life alone knowing that he's ok." She started up the steps, and he quickly left the house, sprinting behind it so she didn't see. He watched her head to her house, waiting a few moments, unsure of what to do.

When he walked up the steps, he could hear music blaring. He thought of knocking, but he knew she wouldn't be able to hear it. So he opened the door, finding her on the floor crying. He put his arms around her, something he never thought he would do again, picking her up, and holding her on the couch. She sobbed into his neck, saying she was sorry over and over. He just held her, letting her cry herself out. Whatever needed said between them could wait. She needed this release. When she finally fell asleep, he carried her up to their room, putting her gently on the bed. She rolled over, shuddering in her sleep, and curled up into a ball.

Daryl backed out of the room, closing the door softly. He walked out of the house and back to where Negan was being held. Into the house, past Rick, he walked, his feet carrying him to the basement. Negan was laying on the bed, eyes focused on the ceiling. When Daryl stepped down the final step, Negan looked over, and a grin crossed his face. Daryl didn't react, just watching him.

"I gotta say, Daryl, Melinda is quite the catch. Quite a firecracker in bed, too." Negan smiled serenely, waiting for a reaction. Daryl grinned back. "Yeah, she is. Too bad you'll never lay eyes on her again. In fact, I doubt you'll be laying eyes on much of anything ever again." Negan's smile faded, and his eyes narrowed, but Daryl continued. "I know what kinda man you are. How does it feel to know that she was probably thinkin' about me every time she was with you?"

He stepped closer to the bars, but just out of reach in case Negan lunged at him. "She's more than a piece of ass, man." Negan seized on that, and his smile returned. "You've never been good enough for her. You know it, and I know it. How long do you think she'll stay around?"

Daryl turned, moving towards the steps. He spoke over his shoulder, not stopping. "That's up to Melinda. But as long as she wants me, I'm there for her."


	24. Chapter 24

  
Melinda spent the next two days in her bed, barely moving or speaking. She came to the grim realization that with every passing moment that she did not see or hear from Daryl, it meant that he would not be able to forgive her. Sadness settled on her like a weight that she could not lift off. So she decided not to, instead letting it smother her heart and soul.

Aaron came in several times, anxious and unsure of what to do. He would walk around the bed to crouch down as she faced the window, trying to make eye contact with her. But she would just stare through him, unreachable. He knew that only Daryl would be able to pull her back, but hesitated to interfere. Whatever needed to happen between the two, it was up to them. He contemplated screaming at her, even slapping her just to get a reaction. Remembering how she was there for him after Eric died, guilt twisted his insides that he could not support her the same way she did for him. So he came in, time after time, though he knew it was fruitless.

Tara, however, would not be deterred. She would also come into Melinda's room, each time bringing soup with her. She would force Melinda to sit up, coaxing a few spoonfuls into her mouth, but no more. After each attempt, she would lie on the bed next to her friend, just holding her hand and stroking her hair. Tara never spoke, instead just trying to will strength into Melinda to overcome the last few months. Others attempted to intervene, but Tara was insistent that they leave her be. This was Melinda's fight, and she had to do it alone.

On the third day, Melinda was awakened by a glass of ice cold water being poured on her head. She flew out of the bed, yelping and ready to fight. Standing there with a glass in her hand was Carol, a no nonsense look on her face. "What the hell is the matter with you?" Melinda shrieked. Carol remained impassive, setting the glass down on the bedside table. "The pity party is over, sweetheart. It's time to get your life back."

She began to strip the bedsheets as Melinda stood there shaking with both anger and cold. "What I do is none of your business," she answered with a scratchy voice, and Carol snorted. "Actually, what you're doing is affecting my best friend, so it is my business." She threw the sheets on the floor, reaching behind Melinda for the clean ones she had set on the dresser. Whipping her wrists, she snapped the fitted sheet open, laying it along the end of the bed that was still dry.

Melinda held up her hand wearily. "I'm tired, Carol. I'm so tired. Please just let me sleep." She sat on the edge of the bed, and with a small sigh, Carol sat down next to her. She grabbed Melinda's right hand, pressing it between both of hers. "I know you've been through alot, Melinda. What you did saved lives. You made a choice, maybe the only one you thought you could. Now, you have to own it. We've all made choices, ones that go against our most fundamental beliefs. But if they're done for the right reasons, if the people we love most in the world benefit from our decisions, then they were never wrong."

Melinda looked down at their hands, her eyes glistening. "He won't be able to forgive me, and he hasn't been to see me. I thought I would be able to live with that, but I don't think I can. At least, I won't be able to stay here." Before the words had settled in the air between them, Carol dropped her hand, grabbing Melinda roughly by the shoulders and turning her around. " _He_ isn't the one that needs to forgive you. You need to forgive _yourself_. The reason he hasn't been here to see you is because I told him not to."

Melinda was angry, and Carol finally saw a spark of life in her eyes. "How could you do something like that?" she sputtered, and Carol smiled. "Because right now, you are not the woman he fell in love with. You are a shell of yourself, and he needs to know that you're still fighting for him. That you'll always fight for him. What you did at the Sanctuary doesn't matter, but what you do now will."

With that, she stood up and held out her hand to help Melinda up. When she stood, Carol pulled her into a hard hug. Leaning into Melinda's ear, she whispered, "Thank you for what you did. Now please take a shower, because you smell like shit." Pulling back, Melinda smiled for the first time in what felt like eternity. Shooing Melinda into the bathroom, she gathered up the sheets, and headed downstairs to throw them into the wash and heat up some food.

Melinda turned on the light in the bathroom, and contemplated looking at herself in the mirror, but thought better of it. Turning on the shower, she brushed her teeth twice while waiting for the water to heat up. She stripped off her clothes and stepped in, groaning softly as the water fell on her head. She washed and scrubbed every inch of her body and shaved her legs. After washing and conditioning her hair, she closed her eyes, just letting the steamy water soak into her. Toweling herself off, she walked back to her room. She was weak from not moving in the past two days, and she briefly thought of laying back down on the bed, but thought better of it. Instead, she twisted her hair up into the towel and coated her skin with lotion, with the gardenia lotion that Daryl had found for her on a run. When she was done, she put on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. She brushed her hair, leaving it loose and headed downstairs.

When she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see that Carol was still there, stirring something on the stove. Carol turned and gave her a quick wink before going to the cupboards to pull out a bowl. Tara and Aaron were sitting at the kitchen table, both with looks of mild surprise. Clearly they had underestimated Carol's tools of persuasion. But they said nothing, treating her like a spooked cat. As she stepped around them to sit down, she put a hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze.

Carol bustled in front of her, setting down a bowl of oatmeal topped with maple syrup and sugar. Melinda took her time, but finished the entire bowl. The other three chatted quietly while she ate, and she was grateful, not quite ready to talk yet. That was short lived, however, as there was a knock on the door. Her heart started to flutter, wondering if it was Daryl, but it was Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judith. While Carol set to washing the dishes, Tara and Aaron excused themselves. Rick approached her, pulling her out of her seat into a long hug. Letting her go, he grasped the sides of her face, looking into her eyes. "Thank you," he said, and she nodded with a tiny smile. Michonne was next, taking Melinda into her arms, but saying nothing. Then Carl, giving her a quick hug, before thrusting Judith into her arms.

Melinda clutched the toddler to her chest, tears falling out of her eyes while Judy played with her wet hair. She sung softly to her as she rocked the baby in her arms, hoping that this sweet girl would have a good life, a safer life without Negan in it. She shuttered the name out of her mind, vowing to never allow him into her psyche again. She was startled out of her thoughts by a tiny hand on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she saw that Judy had a big smile on her face. "Hi," she squeaked out to Melinda, who gasped. She looked at Rick and Michonne, this time with happy tears. They looked as stunned as she was, and everyone crowded around them, trying to get her to talk again. Every time she would say "hi" they would cheer, sending Judith into a fit of laughter.

Eventually, the foursome headed out, and Rosita and Eugene came in. Over and over, throughout the day, her friends appeared, just wanting to check in on her. Sasha and Abraham, Heath, and Gabriel all sat with her. Some talked and some didn't, but Melinda appreciated it with every fiber of her being.  
When the last visitor departed, she sat with Carol for a few minutes before she too headed off. Before she left, she gave Melinda a hug and made her promise to come visit. Melinda assured her that she would, joking that she needed to check on her kitty, and the two laughed.  
When she was finally alone again, Melinda wandered around the house absently, looking for anything out of place. Deciding that everything was in the same place as it was before she left, she finally retreated to the kitchen, looking for her whiskey. It was above the refrigerator, and the took it into the living room with a glass. She poured a small amount into the glass, sipping it slowly.

She sensed him before she saw him, her heart leaping into her throat. He walked in through the hallway, stopping when he saw her on the couch. The looked at each other, neither saying a word. She held her breath, waiting for something, anything that would tell her his state of mind, but his face was unreadable. As he walked towards her, she stood, her legs shaking. They were inches apart, and it felt like a mile to her. Longing to touch him, she resisted, terrified that he would rebuke her. So she waited. Waited for the verdict that would convict her or set her heart free.

Almost too fast for her mind to comprehend, his hands flew to her face, pulling her to him, their lips meeting. "Never again," he whispered into her mouth and she melted into him. "Not again," she whispered, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Never again." He swept her up in his arms, nearly racing upstairs to their room. He set her on the bed, his lips never breaking contact with hers, and she was afire, clutching at his shirt as he undid his pants. They separated briefly as they undressed, and she whimpered before pulling him back onto her. His tongue explored her mouth and her head spun. She had never wanted anything more in her life, and needed him inside her now. There was no time to waste, and she guided him inside her with a primal sound, their hands linked together.

Back and forth they rocked, gazing into each others eyes, not wanting to miss a moment. She felt herself reaching the brink of pleasure, and her body exploded, sending her into near hysterics. "I love you," she moaned, overcome with emotion. He shuddered inside her, releasing his own climax with a growl. "I love you, too," he answered into her shoulder, shaking slightly. He lay on top of her, as they caught their breath. "Am I hurting you?" he asked after a brief silence. "No," she murmured, her lips meeting his. She traced the opening of his mouth with her tongue as her fingers traced the scars on his back.

After a while, he rolled off of her, pulling her onto his chest, and she lay, just listening to his heart beat, steady and strong. Closing her eyes, she ran her nails lightly over his chest in a swirling pattern, wanting to stay in this moment forever. She let out a sigh, and Daryl's arms tightened around her. "I wish we could stay here always," she sighed, as she felt him kiss the top of her head. "We're here now, and that's good enough for me," he said.

They made love over and over into the early morning hours, before finally falling asleep, arms and legs tangled together. She knew they would have to talk, but tonight was not that night. Right now, all that needed said were the three words they had whispered to each other in passion.


	25. Chapter 25

Melinda woke the next day with Daryl's arms around her and a lighter heart. Rolling over, she placed a soft kiss on his lips as he smiled at her. "What time is it?" she asked. Glancing at the clock on his side of the bed, he spoke. "It's a little after one." Reluctantly she sat up, stretching her arms above her head as he ran his finger up and down her spine. It caused a whisper of heat wherever he touched her, and she briefly thought of laying back down and pulling him on top of her. But there was an elephant in the room that needed addressed, and the sooner they dealt with it, the quicker they could move on.

After cracking her neck, she swiveled around, facing him. She was still nude, so she draped the sheet around her waist, leaving her top exposed. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she smiled shyly, grabbing his and in hers. Clearing her throat, she looked down as she spoke. "I suppose we should talk about a few things."

Daryl scooted himself up so that he could lean against the headboard and steeling himself for what promised to be a difficult conversation. Taking a deep breath, Melinda started to speak, starting with the immediate aftermath of her decision. She did not look up as she spoke, not wanting to see his reaction. Speaking slowly and carefully, she told him about her days at the Sanctuary, including the people she met. Describing her days in the kitchen and hunting excursions her voice was strong and clear, until she came to the incident with Tom. As she described him punching her in the face, Daryl's hand clenched tightly around hers, causing her to pull it from his grasp. She briefly told him about Negan beating him to death, and Sherry caring for her. She did not want to relive her personal intimate interactions with Negan, so she concentrated on the other day to day activities, including her training of Sanctuary residents to fend for themselves. When she was almost done, she finally brought her eyes up to his to gauge his mood. He appeared to be holding up well, so she shared one final secret with him, her hands laying listlessly in her lap. 

"The one thing I want you to know, more than anything I've told you, is that you were always on my mind. You are quite literally the man of my dreams," she said, blushing slightly. "The nights I dreamt of you gave me the strength to go on when I thought it was hopeless." She sat stiffly, waiting for him to speak. He was quiet and still for so long that she began to panic, thinking he would explode at her. 

Instead, he sat up, pulling her head to his so that their foreheads touched. His eyes were closed as he spoke, his voice like broken glass. "Watchin' you walk away from me was one of the worst feelings of my life, and I've seen some bad stuff in the last few years. But you can't ever make a decision like that again. My life is worth nothin' without you, and I won't let you ever put yourself in danger for me again."

Melinda lifted her hand to his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb until he opened his eyes to look at her. They both had tears in their eyes, and she spoke softly, almost too soft for him to hear. "We're a team. Now and forever, I promise you." Bringing her lips to his, she brushed off the sheet, maneuvering herself so that she was straddling his lap as he placed his hands on her hips. He entered her and she gazed at him with half-closed eyes. They moved slowly together, in no hurry to finish like they were the night before. 

A short time later, they finally left the quiet of their bed, dressing so the could head down to eat. As they reached the door, Melinda pulled Daryl back towards her, wrapping her hands around his waist, and leaned into his back. "There's one more thing I need to do, my love," she said. He turned himself around in her arms, brushing the hair out of her face. She continued on, her face earnest. "I need to go back and see my friends. I need to see if they're ok." She could see him getting ready to argue, but she plowed ahead anyways. "I basically went in there and demolished their way of life, and good or bad, I need to check on them to make sure they're happy." 

Daryl looked at her for a moment before kissing the tip of her nose. "Rick is heading there tomorrow to meet with Dwight. I'll talk to him, and we'll go with him." Squeezing him, she buried her head into his neck, her safe spot. Breathing in his scent, she knew this was the right decision, and she was grateful that he would be accompanying her.   
They spent the rest of the day together, eating and relaxing. She felt guilty for not getting out and helping with the day to day of maintaining Alexandria, but under the circumstances, she figured she deserved one more day of rest. She and Daryl retired to bed early that night before Aaron came home, taking their whiskey and two glasses with them. 

The next morning, they walked out of the house hand in hand and headed to the front gate. Rick and Michonne were there waiting, as was Tara and Abraham. Melinda waved to Sasha, who was up on guard duty at the gate, and she waved back happily. Michonne stepped up to her with concern in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Melinda nodded resolutely. "Yes, I am. I need to make sure my friends are ok." Michonne searched her eyes, and seeming satisfied, simply nodded. So they loaded themselves onto the RV driving through the gates with purpose.

The closer they got to the Sanctuary, the more her stomach churned. She agonized on returning to a place that held both good and bad memories for her, but knew in her heart that she could not live with herself if she didn't face it head on. She held Daryl's hand tightly as he rubbed her back in support. When they reached the gate, she was surprised to see that all the walkers that had been chained and mounted onto poles were gone. Melinda assumed that Dwight had ordered them to be disposed of. 

Rick honked the horn twice, and the gates opened. Melinda felt a dizzy sense of deja vu, but told herself that it wasn't the same. Nothing was the same. She was here with her family, and they would protect her. After parking the RV, she opened the door slowly, stepping out onto the ground. The first person she saw was Dwight, and he was watching her with a smirk on his face. Without a second thought, she walked up to him and took him in a hug as he patted her shoulder akwardly, eyes watching Daryl warily. The both said "thank you" at the same time, breaking the tension. When she pulled back, she noticed that the hardness was gone from his eyes. He seemed like a different person, one that was finally free, and she was glad. She knew right then that the choices she made didn't just affect her family, they also altered the life of everyone at the Sanctuary. 

Tara, Daryl and Melinda continued on, leaving Rick and Dwight to talk. Apparently after the confrontation, the Alexandrians, the Hilltoppers and the knights of the Kingdom and come together to help Dwight secure the Sanctuary and all its outposts. They were able to achieve it fairly easily, as there were fewer people than she thought that were loyal to Negan. Over the last few days, the leaders had gotten together to hammer out some of the more mundane minutae of the treaty, and plans for trading were in full swing.   
As they headed into the building, Melinda gave them a quick and dirty rundown of the layout of the building. They no sooner walked in then she heard someone shrieking her name. Before she could even turn her head, she was barrelled into by two smaller bodies. Alex and Sophie wrapped their arms around her, both crying. Tara and Daryl stepped back, as the three stood silently. Breaking the hug, Melinda kissed both of them on the head, her eyes watery. They looked thrilled to see her, and the feeling was mutual. She didn't even get any words out of her mouth before someone else grabbed her from behind. Daisy. "It's about time you came back, kitten," she said, her voice trembling. Melinda didn't reply, just hugging her friend. 

After gathering her thoughts, she hastily introduced the three to Daryl and Tara. The twins stood behind Daisy shyly, and Melinda grabbed them by the hands, pulling them over to a nearby table. The six sat together, as Melinda told them about Alexandria. She held Daryl's hand as she spoke, turning pink when Daisy gave her an approving look. She looked at Daryl, who had an uncharacteristic grin on his face. Poking him in the side, she turned back around as Daisy began telling her about the changes to the Sanctuary. They were now able to pick their own jobs, though the kitchen staff had decided to stay together, and Dwight had abolished the points system. Though it had only been a few days, the morale had improved immensely, which thrilled Melinda. 

While they sat talking, more people came up to see her, including her old supply crew. Katie was now leading her own group, as were John and Josh. They had done well on their last run, and were now scheduling several a week. Jamie, the young sharp shooter, was now in charge of protection for the Sanctuary. Given that he had a military background, he was implementing a more practiced and measured approach to safety. While Katie rambled about a close encounter with walkers on a run to Springfield, the town they visited on their first run, Melinda noticed Daisy and Tara stealing glances at each other. She hid a smile as Katie finished her story, refocusing her attention on the petite girl. 

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to see old Josephine from the kitchen standing behind her. Before she could say anything, Josephine handed her two big jars of applesauce with a grunt, turning around and heading back to work. Daisy laughed, saying, "That's pretty damn affectionate for Josephine." They all joined in, even Daryl, and Melinda felt a surge of emotion. Before she could get all sappy, Sophie tugged on her sleeve. "Melinda, are you going to take your CD player with you when you go?" she asked shyly. "You keep it, sweet girl," she replied, and Sophie's face lit up. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Melinda. She hugged her back, placing another kiss on Sophie's head. 

After a few more minutes, they all stood, and Melinda said her goodbyes. She felt a lump forming in her throat, before swallowing heavily. She knew this was not a forever farewell, but it still felt final for some reason. She hoped that they would see each other often, and asked her friends to please come see her at Alexandria. Daisy promised to bring the twins soon, and they hugged one last time. Wiping tears from her eyes, she took Daryl's hand as they headed for the door. Right before they walked out, she heard someone else call her name. Turning around, she saw Sherry hurrying down the steps. As Sherry approached the trio, Melinda saw Daryl fidget at her side, and she remembered that he had tried to help Sherry and Dwight, only to be abandoned in the woods for his trouble. Linking her fingers in his, she stepped slightly in front of him, facing Sherry. 

Sherry nodded nervously at Daryl before focusing on Melinda. "Can I talk to you for a moment before you leave?" she asked. Melinda nodded slowly before turning to Daryl to give him a reassuring smile. She dropped his hand, following Sherry a short ways away. Sherry's hands fluttered nervously as she gestured towards Daryl. "I-I didn't realize that you were..." she said, trailing off. Melinda placed her hand on Sherry's arm, trying to reassure her that it was fine. "It's ok, Sherry," she said, "No one knew." Sherry nodded quickly, her hands still fluttering. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," she laughed. "I don't want to keep you, I just wanted to say thank you. What you did was incredibly brave." She seemed to want to say something else, but struggled, clearly unsure how to put it. Melinda impulsively pulled Sherry into a hug, whispering into her ears. "We're all brave in our own way, Sherry. I hope that you and Dwight work things out. Find your strength and go to him. He still loves you." Pulling back, she saw that Sherry had a look of shock on her face. Before she could speak, Melinda started walking backwards, giving her a little wave. 

When she got back to Tara and Daryl, she took each one by the hand, leading them out the door and back to the RV while they carried the applesauce. She felt at peace, knowing that everyone she cared about was safe and relatively happy. Things may not be perfect for forever, but they had a chance to be. If not, well, they would face it together.   
When they got back on the road, Melinda piped up from the back couch with a grin on her face. "Does anyone want to go pick some apples?"


	26. Chapter 26

  
Melinda was pulling the dessert plates from the cupboard when she felt a tug on her skirt.

"Momma, Judy told me that I'm a baby 'cause she's older than me, but I'm not a baby! I'm four today!"  
Melinda set the plates on the counter and bent down. "Paige, sweetie, I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it. Judy is a little older than you, that's all," she said, hoisting the little girl into her arms. "Besides, Hershel is the baby, at least for a few more weeks," she said, kissing Paige on the cheek. Looking over, she saw Michonne on her knees, talking very seriously to Judith, who had a scowl on her face. Standing up, Michonne led Judith over to Melinda and Paige, with an apologetic smile on her face. 

With a minor prompting from her mom, Judy spoke with a trembling voice, "I'm sorry, Paige. You're not a baby." Paige looked at her dubiously, before breaking into a smile. "That's ok," she replied. Squirming in Melinda's arms, she continued, "Let's go play dolls," she said, and Melinda set her down. The two girls scampered off, and Melinda and Michonne shook their heads at the same time. 

It had been three years to the day that Daryl and Melinda had found Paige on a run, and Melinda could still scarcely believe the odds of it happening. About six months after she had returned to Alexandria, she and Daryl had been on a pass through one of the little towns that they had cleared. They liked to circle back to make sure it wasn't getting overrun with walkers, so they double checked it on their way back to Alexandria. Driving on the little main street through town, they were surprised to see six or seven walkers clustered around the local hardware store, arms banging on the glass window. As they slowed to a stop, Daryl noticed the word 'HELP' written on the window in blood. 

Throwing the truck into park, the two hurried out, dispatching the walkers with ease. They had studied the letters, with Daryl guessing that they were only about a day or so old. Giving each other a look, they approached the door slowly, weapons raised. Daryl had broken the glass door, reaching in to unlock the deadbolt. As soon as the glass shattered, they heard a child crying. The two moved slowly and deliberately through the small store, wary of a trap. As they reached the back room, they came upon the body of a young man who appeared to be in his twenties. He had turned recently, and there was a gunshot wound to his head. 

Stepping around him, Daryl tried to open the door, but it appeared to have something up against it. With a heave, he was able to push it open, and they waited a moment to see if anyone would come out, but no one did. Just the continued wail of a small child. Entering the small store room, they found a young woman on the floor, a small child huddled against her crying. The woman had been bitten, her arm covered in blood and a large missing piece of flesh. She was barely conscious, murmuring softly as Melinda knelt down beside her. 

"Paige...take care of Paige," she said, barely able to open her eyes. The child continued to cry, so Daryl scooped her up, trying to calm her. Melinda felt the woman's forehead, which felt like a furnace. "Please," the woman whispered, "Take her." Melinda nodded, producing a knife from her backpack. Holding it in her hand, she showed it to the woman, who managed a small nod. As carefully as she could, she plunged the knife into the unnamed woman's temple, ending her suffering. "I'm sorry," she said softly, wiping her knife off on a rag nearby. 

Standing up, she moved to Daryl who was still trying to calm the child. The little girl had a mop of golden brown hair and pale blue eyes, her little face red and blotchy from crying. Shushing her, Melinda took the baby, pressing her to her chest and rocking her back and forth. "We gotta get her out of here," she said, and Daryl led them back to the front of the store. When they reached the door, he looked out carefully for any signs of life, living or dead. Satisfied the coast was clear, they hurried to the truck, climbing in. As Daryl started the truck, Melinda continued to comfort the girl, crooning her name. "It's ok, Paige," she sang, "it's ok, sweetie."

They flew back home in record time, with Daryl honking the horn before they even reached the gate. It was hurriedly opened, and they parked the car, rushing to see Rosita at the infirmary. After checking her over thoroughly, Rosita declared her in good health, with some mild dehydration. Melinda had held Paige throughout the examination, refusing to let her out of her sight. When the checkup was complete, they brought her back to their house, feeding her small bites of the previous nights pasta dinner and getting her take sips of some powdered milk. Rick and Michonne had come over while they were feeding her, bringing them diapers and some of Judith's clothes. Michonne and Rick offered to give Paige a bath and get her cleaned up, giving Melinda and Daryl a chance to talk. 

The conversation was short and sweet, with Melinda expressing her desire to raise Paige as their child. "Is that a commitment you're willing to make?" she asked Daryl hesitantly. He pulled her up by the hand, wrapping her in his arms. "I woulda been fine with it just the two of us for the rest of our lives, but this feels like a gift. Like we were meant to find her," he said. She kissed him before burying her face in his neck. They stood like that until Rick and Michonne brought the baby back down, freshly cleaned and bundled up in one of Judith's sleepers. 

The next three years were the best of her life. Melinda took to mothering naturally, and Paige was the apple of Daryl's eye. She had them wrapped around her little fingers, and the town doted on her and Judith. The two little girls never wanted for affection, with all of their surrogate aunts and uncles helping to care for them. Eventually, the three moved into Spencer's old house, as Melinda took charge of the record keeping for Alexandria. She interviewed and placed new recruits that Aaron and Daryl brought back, coordinating with Rick what departments needed help. 

Focusing back on the present with a shake of her head, she pulled the blackberry cobbler out of the oven as Michonne took the birthday cake out of the fridge. Placing four candles into the icing, she lit the wicks before slowly walking into the living room with the cake. Everyone began to sing "Happy Birthday" as Paige stood in the center of the room, twirling in her purple dress. Everything was purple for the party, including the icing. Paige had insisted, since it was the best color, she explained to her parents. Melinda and Daryl smiled at each other as she blew out the candles, taking two tries to do so, and everyone clapped.

Carol and Michonne took the cake back into the kitchen to slice it up while Daryl and Melinda brought presents to the center of the room to open. She sat on the floor in Melinda's lap, opening each present slowly, focusing intently on each gift. Tara and Daisy had bought her several books, and Paige took each one out, looking at the front and back before setting them aside. Eugene made her a Newton's cradle, coloring the metal balls purple. He attempted to explain the physics behind it to the four year old as she watched it moving, before Carl begged him to shut up. 

Paige got clothes from Rosita, coloring books and a huge stack of crayons from Aaron and Jesus, more books from Carol and Ezekiel, a doll that looked almost exactly like her from Rick, Michonne, Carl and Judy, a small wooden cross from Gabriel, and a fancy purple princess outfit from Abraham and Sasha, who sat uncomfortably on the couch, with Abraham rubbing her back. She was in her final month of pregnancy, and clearly miserable. Daryl ducked out of the house as Paige was opening up her final present, a beautiful metal sculpture that spelled out her name from Maggie and Hershel. 

Melinda watched Paige's face as Daryl walked in with a large box, wrapped in purple paper and a glittery purple ribbon. She was struck by how handsome he looked in his jeans and button down shirt, smiling from ear to ear. Paige climbed out of her lap, approaching the present. "Ooh, what's that, Daddy?" she asked. He picked her up and flipped her upside down before setting her back on the ground. "You'll just have to open it up and see, won't ya?" he said, tickling her under her chin. 

This present was too big and purple for her to take her time with. She ripped off the paper, letting out a squeal as Judith inched closer to see. Paige was now the proud owner of a little electric motorcycle that was painted a deep purple. She jumped up and down excitedly, her curls bouncing as the adults oohed and ahhed over her new ride. She begged her father to take it outside so she could ride it, but Melinda spoke up first. "Young lady, you need to go around and thank your aunts and uncles for your gifts first," she admonished with a smile. "But Mommy," Paige whined. Eugene joined in, "Yeah Mom," he said in almost the exact same tone of voice. 

Abraham piped up. "Jesus, Eugene, you're agreeing with a four year old. Rethink your life choices, man." Paige turned and looked at him with a frown, her eyes squinting. She knew she had just been insulted, but wasn't quite sure how. "That's not good manners, Uncle Abraham," she said, wagging her little finger, and everyone laughed. After bestowing kisses and hugs on her family, the men took the kids out to ride, taking their cake and cobbler with them, as the women sat in the living room chatting for a bit. As they talked, Melinda looked over at the most important people in her world. She was filled with a sense of wonder at what her life had become, and she got teary. "I just want to thank you all for coming," she said, her voice cracking. Maggie grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. "We're family. There's no where else we'd rather be."

As the party wound down, Carol, Ezekiel, Maggie and baby Hershel, Jesus and Aaron all said their goodbyes, heading back to the Hilltop and the Kingdom. Everyone kissed and hugged, making plans to see each other the following week. Rick, Daryl and Abraham stayed outside smoking cigars and enjoying a glass of brandy while Eugene, Carl and Rosita left for home. Paige and Judy came back in, running up to Paige's room to play for a bit, while Michonne, Melinda, Daisy and Tara cleaned up the house. When the last dish was dried and put away, Melinda called the girls downstairs. Promising them they could have a sleepover another day, the Grimes family took their leave.

Melinda picked up her daughter, kissing her on her head. "Aunt Tara and Aunt Daisy are going to give you your bath, and then I'll be up to tuck you in," she said. "Can I keep my motorcycle in my room tonight?"she asked, looking at her father, who nodded before heading out to bring it in. While Paige was getting bathed, Melinda sorted and organized her gifts, thumbing through one of the books that Carol and Ezekiel had given her. It was Where the Wild Things Are, and Melinda became lost in thought, remembering her own mother reading it to her almost every night. She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she leaned back onto Daryl's chest. "Everything allright?" he asked, and she looked back at him with a smile. "Yes," she said. "I was just remembering when my mom would read this to me. She read it almost every night without complaint, and when she would leave my room, I'd pretend that the wild things would crawl out of my closet to take me away." She let out a long breath, having not thought about it in a long time. 

Daryl gave her a squeeze, and said, "Well, you'll just have to continue the tradition. I don't mind Paige playing with these monsters." Melinda set the book down and turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck. Before she could lean in to kiss him, she heard Tara and Daisy coming down the steps. "Well, her royal highness is clean and ready for bed," Tara announced. "Thank you, Aunt Tara and Aunt Daisy," Melinda teased, causing both to roll their eyes. She hugged them both, as they headed off for the night.  
Melinda and Daryl turned off the downstairs lights and headed up to tuck Paige in. As they reached the door, they could hear her talking to her new doll about how they were going to ride her motorcycle the next day. The two wanted to stay outside and listen, but they knew that she would get overtired if they didn't get her to sleep, and then no one would get any rest that night. So they went in, asking her if she had a good birthday. Paige nodded sleepily, curling up on her side, clutching her little twin doll. They kissed her gently on the head, turning off the lamp, and the nightlight blinked on by the side of the bed. 

Closing the door quietly, they headed to their own room, and Melinda sat down on the bed, kicking off her heels. She watched the love of her life as he removed his shirt, throwing it over the chair in the corner of their room. He was lean and muscled, already tanned from spending the long spring days outside, and she felt a flush of desire. He was hers, she thought. Her lover, her protector. He caught her watching him, and the corners of his mouth turned up as he made his way over to her. He leaned over her on the bed, and she pulled him down on top of her, opening her lips to him as she ran her hands lightly down his back. 

The rest of the town was quiet and asleep, as they made love through the night. All except for one other person. He sat in his cell, patiently waiting for his chance.  
He sung softly to himself, over and over. " _Oh, one dark night, I'm gonna crawl through her window_..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, folks. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy the little song lyric at the end. Bonus points if you know the song!


End file.
